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Allegiant [MRAZ and Domovoi]

MRAZ

Super-Earth
Joined
Jun 13, 2015
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The shackles around her wrists felt colder than they should feel and she was pretty sure she was shivering, cold? No, impossible, having grown up in the North there was no way that cold would affect this once knight. Well, truth to be told she was just nervous, which was ironic, they had fished her from the bitter cold north forest and NOW she felt colder than there? Well, it was somehow logical; it was time to face her crimes, face her.

And what a sight the Queen would see, she was chained and dirty, her clothes torn in several places, the cape she once wore was now shredded and looked more like a scarf than what it once was… Also, the prisoner was not sure when was the last time she took bath nor when was her last decent meal. When they dragged her here they began to feed her with one loaf of bread and water, it wasn’t much but it was a great feast when the other option was starving.

… It had been a while, a long while and now, all of a sudden, she would be facing the once princess and now Queen, the one she had dedicated heart and soul for so many years.

The rag dressed girl used her chained hands to try to comb her messy brown hair out of her teal colored eyes as she remembered how she had even ended up here: That time, at the great northern peak’s foot the warrior had found herself surrounded by a bunch of cadets, stupid peasants, those who protect the Queen were elite and they sent mere rookies? The knight had half her mind set on escaping them but something stopped had stopped her; hearing the Queen’s name had made her weak.

The warrior known as Meike Dietrich had known then that it had been time to return to the home she had escaped, it was time to face what she had left back, she had allowed them to defeat and drag her here. That should mean something, but it didn’t, and the once knight to the queen, trained and bred to protect her, knew that well.

The doors were swung open by the soldiers at her sides and, forcing her to look down, they began to drag her in, each step felt eternal and the silence was just deafening.

Finally, the guards presented her to the queen; Meike Dietrich, the once knight and now traitor, two years had passed since her betrayal and now she was back. The brunette was nineteen years old now, her brown hair was dirty and messy, her clothes, once a proud uniform of the elite guard, were just rags now. Nothing of that mattered though, not when she began to kneel before the throne. No when the rookies that had captured her put their swords under and over her neck.

Much less when the words that she had not said in a long while escaped her lips.

“Your majesty…”
 
RE: Allegiant

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

The guards' armor could be heard making its way down the halls even from where she sat, rhythmic and purposeful. All this posturing was tiresome. Such a big show to be made, yet by day's end, it meant nothing. Truly, they could not afford to waste such effort. However, appearances must be kept, and Queen Lenara Edhelbor knew the consequences for failure; they were too dire to risk.

Nearly two years since Meike had been in the homeland state, two years since her and Sir Cedric Balthair Leandro had left on a mission. Sir Leandro had been her father's right hand man and trusted confidante, now dead. Two years... Somehow, it felt like so much longer. Time slowed to a crawl as she watched her father die and took over his position as leader, the weight of her new title being dropped on her shoulders like a bucket of icy water dumped over her head. No amount of grooming had prepared her for this.

Pushing some locks of blonde fringe from her face, she straightened her posture on her throne, making certain the guards hadn't seen her momentary slouching. Quick fingers ran through her long hair, adjusting the way it curtained down her shoulders. She knew they musn't see the signs of her fatigue. Morale was the most important thing for her army to have, as a soldier's purpose was the fiercest whetstone, and the men of all ranks tended to gossip like spinsters once the mead began to flow. Tales of the lazy, slouchy queen would spread like a plague. Perish the thought.

Another two years surely passed before the clanking of armor brought the prisoner before her. A scruffy girl, a bit older than she remembered (why this came as a surprise was beyond her fathom), was plonked at the foot of the royal chair quite unceremoniously, blades threatening her life in proximity of the queen. One above and one below, a deadly collar to match her iron shackles, painting quite the picture of helplessness before her. With one assuring gesture of her hand, she had the guards stand down, an order they followed immediately - albeit with clear distaste.

"Meike Dietrich," Pale blue eyes looked fiercely at the other woman. The toll, physical and mental, that gaining such a high rank had taken on Lenara would be plenty visible to her old friend, and a part of her hated that fact. A firmly set jaw and the hardened remnants of a happy-go-lucky gaze, dark circles and withered complexion giving away her sleep deprivation. In these uncertain times, becoming queen had also meant becoming the general of a war; difficult decisions weighed on her mind, people looked to her for guidance and leadership, the lives of countless subjects rested in her hands, and all this following so closely after the loss of so many beloved family members. Twenty-four looked more like late thirties.

"For the crimes you committed, you were sentenced to execution," She began, the woman's voice staggeringly deadpan. "But I believe you've more information to share before we're truly done with you," The frowns on her guards' faces upset her. They must consider it foolish, what with the lengthy interrogation the prisoner had already gone through and to no avail. Worse yet, they could believe her to be favoring Meike simply due to their long-standing relationship, hesitating to execute an old friend and postponing it based on emotion. "You should be grateful for my mercy. Any other leader would slit your throat themselves simply for the trouble my men have gone through searching for you."

Mercy. An unwilling gift. The knight's betrayal cut deeper than it should have; someone she'd known for so long, a dear friend, a childhood hero. Honestly, regardless of their difference in status, she looked up to the rough and tumble tomboy swearing to protect her, and in her foolish daydreams she truly believed those words. Never did she imagine a future where Meike hadn't taken Sir Leandro's place to serve at her side. But Meike had come willingly, and there was more to be told about the goings on, information obviously available.

There was a foolish and naïve part of Lenara that had wanted to march down to Meike's cell and demand an explanation, sit down to talk like old friends, not as royalty versus rabble. The knight's guilt was shining as blatant as her guards' armor, but friendship and loyalty did not fade so easily. Again, however, posturing and maintaining appearances was of such importance that it was more game than genuine action. That was all her conversations ever amounted to lately, in fact; games where she and others put on faces and put on shows, trading masks back and forth to achieve a mutual goal. It was artificial. It was unnatural. It made her sick.

So thus, she would play the game. Make a show of it. Pulling a blade from the hilt at her side, a glorious ceremonial sword that, although she'd never had cause to wield it and mar its beauty, could slice through her enemies with ease. Could she use it? Of course.

Meike herself had been the one to teach her swordplay when they were growing up together.

"I shall give you one last opportunity to speak the truth, at the exchange of imprisonment over death," Imprisonment in the poor conditions of the dungeon was probably trading down rather than up, but this was more posturing. Her hope was that she'd be able to free the woman; surely Meike could not have... There had to be some explanation! The shattered remnants of her broken heart reached and grasped for any possible alternative to Meike having been the one to participate in such a massacre. "Leave us, I will speak with the prisoner alone," Looking over her shoulder at the two subjects posted beside the throne, she explained, "Only my personal servants may remain, as I can handle one bound peasant on my own," Again, displeasure from the guards, but as before the obedience was immediate - though their slow departure gave away their desire to both stay and to hear the impending conversation.

Once they were out of the room, she sighed deeply, body untensing. Around Meike, the airs she put on could be dispelled, even now. "Oh, Meike..." Despite the quality of the finery she wore, she chose to gently lower herself to sit on the floor in front of the exiled woman. "Though my trust is gone, and a part of me hates you so, I beg of you... Tell me you had no hand in this bloodshed," Icy eyes pleaded to the brunette to bear good news, but the sad haze to them said everything of her faith in a positive outcome.
 
She had promised herself that she would return, one last time, even if her princess, now queen, ordered her death right away, that didn’t matter, Meike just wanted to see the woman one last time, and then die a traitor’s death, as she knew she would. Strangely, it felt nice to return home, to the place she had accepted as hers from the very beginning, it felt comforting even, she knew it was all over and all this farce would be gone with her.

The King had known it and Meike had learned to resent him for his choice of words that last night, when both her master and she had been near his Majesty’s bed as he explained the situation, agonizing: “You’ll be fulfilling your duty to me, and shielding her from this sin and from the jackals that are rounding her.” His words had ringed true, and every battle and every killing were seen thought with those words in mind. She was loyal to the king, and, more than anything, loyal to Lenara. Just like she had been before, like when they were kids and she would return with new bruises and hits after fighting whoever of the squires that had mocked the royal child while they thought no one was listening, just that this time those that had menaced her had not gotten away with just bruises and broken bones.

The death-necklace that the guards had given her was not surprising at all, she had known how the others would see her upon her return, and, for once, she was grateful about the other knight having perished in that cave, they would only aim at her, and that she could take, that old man had nearly been a father to her, it would have hurt to see him on his knees and at her side. After all, just like the ol’ man had said: “They’ll be hungry for blood, and we’ll feed them with ours.” It was their duty, in order to conceal the crime they had to become scapegoats and Meike, as the remaining survivor, had come to do so.

Let them come and rip her to shreds if so was needed.


The Queen’s gaze was ice-cold but she knew herself to be deserving of such glare, still, it moved her, it hurt to be stared like that by the woman she had admired and idolized, it made her lower her own gaze right away in a mix of guilt and pain that even she could not understand. She had, in all versions, run away without a warning after swearing loyalty to the princess and being there for nearly all her life; she had simply disappeared without a trace, the same for Sir Leandro and she had done so proudly, obeying her king, still, confronting the princ… the queen now, it was like a stab to the heart. Truthfully, the traitor would not have been surprised in the slightest if Lenara ordered her immediate death, in fact, she was nearly hoping for it, at least she wouldn’t have to answer the questions that were coming her way.

The announcement she had been expecting, the order to the guards to close their swords around her neck, however, did not come and the brunette girl just bowed more to the queen, her throat was patched and she wished that she wasn’t trembling lightly, this was very important; this was no time to show weakness. Still the warrior felt now so very tired, she wished to be able to sleep and for a couple seconds she also missed her younger years. The brunette warrior wanted to be a squire again and sneak to Alexandra’s bedroom for comfort. But that was gone now, it had been gone since years ago.

The words of mercy of her ruler nearly made her snort in amusement and distracted her from her thoughts: ‘Trouble’ the queen said, trouble, as if she had even lifted a finger to run away or fight those that found her, those damn rookies that had brought the missing knight were all but given the whole thing in a silver platter, but, of course, they had surely said otherwise.

The shine of the queen’s sword made the warrior look up and prepare silently, she even had to make an effort in order not to smile; seeing Lenara with a sword in hand had always given her a twinge of pride. Their training was hard and often had them both going to bed with new battle wounds, but neither of them had ever complained. The green eyed deserter knew full well just how deadly the queen could be with that weapon, unlike many of the other nobles that were weaklings hiding behind their knights.

She remained quiet, immobile, like as if she had become a statue of herself, whatever happened next, Meike knew herself to be able to take it… or so she thought.

The death hold was removed and the guards left upon the blond woman’s orders, but even then, Meike did not speak, instead she gazed around for any unwelcomed witness, distracted by that, Lenara’s reaction got her with her guard lowered and that was more than evident as the traitor snapped her head up to see the Queen, eyes filled with confusion and fear for some moments, however, she recovered soon and looked away, steeling herself once more.

The mention of the “bloodshed” made her clench her teeth, they had taken a while in destroying the state, first it had been a question of planning, waiting until they knew every exit and every trick they had, waiting until the snow came and the state was isolated; finding out where the intruders that Vereiter, the brother of the king and lord of the northern lands of Davorick, had welcomed into his lands and bringing to them to their end. The extermination had taken a long, long while, killing hawks that were sent to ask for aid, destroying the place, killing messengers and whoever wandered too close to that place, it had taken time, it felt like years and Meike was not even really sure of how long it had really been, strangely though, she felt surprised about Lenara being aware of it. It kind of felt like someone knowing your nightmares without you ever mentioning them.

Her reply came without even thinking about it, what was she expecting to get with it? Maybe infuriate the queen, in order to stop the pain that came with the noble looking her like that? Maybe just give herself a bit of time to think straight, since, for now, everything felt unfocused? Who cared… before she could even bite her tongue, she had given the answer:

“There was a war raging when I left, my Queen.”
She said as calmly as she could. “There was bloodshed everywhere you’d turn, and I had a hand in many of them. You’d have to be more specific as to which one you're refering to.”

The scene that had greeted whoever entered the Davorick state after the massacre was over was sure to have sent that poor soul to madness: They had been all killed, maimed and some of them even devoured, Meike was not even ashamed of that, what it had hurt, however, was to be away from her home, away from Lenara, to top that, the big knight Leandro had fallen in battle thanks to Vereiter’s dirty tricks.

The traitor half wondered if they had found his body, as well as she wondered what they had thought of how they had left Vereiter’s corpse. She was mostly against torture, you either killed a man or you didn’t and most people in the state had received that curtesy, their deaths, if they did not fight, had been as painless as possible, if they fought there was the risk that they would be left badly wounded and left to die of their wounds. Vereiter, however, was not as lucky: She had taken out her anger, her frustration, her pain and her hunger on him.

His wounds had festered, he had begged, as he dragged himself on the floor. Meike felt sick just by remembering that, but, back then, it had been fair. Her master was dead because of that man, an eye for an eye, two agonizing deaths for the destruction of a man. At least it had felt fair back then.

When he was granted the mercy of demise, there had been a lot to clean, and Meike had not cared to do it, and neither had the others.
 
Her hard gaze sharpened further at the reply she received. Without thinking, she drew her hand back and brought it back across the brunette's face, leaving a red outline in the wake of her strike. "How dare you," To mock her, to look her in the face and play the fool! The absolute and utter gall it took! With the pain and heartbreak she'd gone through, the daily reports of maimings and brutality, to hear that her family members were among the victims... That was a joke to Meike?

Getting to her feet, her anger thickened. "How dare you!" Lenara repeated, voice nearly booming, trembling with growing rage. "You were my world once, Meike!" If not for the countless nights she'd cried alone in her chambers having dried up her tears, the blonde woman was certain they'd be flowing. Seeing her best friend's familiar teal eyes was bringing constant flashbacks of their time together.

She'd hardly acted princessly back then! Despite flowy dresses and a regal diadem, there was an almost boyish side to the Edhelbor heir. Sneaking around, playing lighthearted pranks on the servants, digging in the dirt and splashing in mud, roughhousing and wrestling with the young girl who would - or, was supposed to - grow up to be her protector. It drove her father mad... But he loved her dearly, so even when she tore and stained her expensive dresses, his anger never stayed. One cute look from her and he would melt, as she was his precious little girl. You could be certain Lenara took full advantage of this power.

Yet somehow it never spoiled her. Her heart was always too big for her own good. Her many castle pets were previously unwanted strays she happily rescued, right down to the team of royal horses. She was learning that the hard way now that she was being forced to make decisions that would either save or ruin peoples' lives. If she could take all of her subjects into her castle to be warm, safe, and protected, she absolutely would. If given the opportunity where she never had to send out her knights on an excursion to risk their lives again, she would lay down her life to make it so.

"You left me! Abandoned me! And for what?!" A fed-up hand gesture waved itself towards the prisoner. "To come before me and taunt me with this 'wit'?" She spat the final word like poison from her lips, the sarcasm dripping off the lone syllable. But a trembling lip gave away her slipping temper, and her flash of anger began to slowly quell. "My world, Meike... And you would make light of the deaths of my family..." Fists clenched, she could no longer look into the ex-knight's eyes, and turned her gaze away to stare at the wall. "It is truly nice to know how little our friendship means to you. How little I mean to you."

Naturally, she hadn't seen for herself the savagery in her uncle's state of Davorick. Instead, she got countless reports and innumerable traumatized soldiers pouring through her doors, each telling more and more tales of violence, gore, and inhuman acts. Many of them she would not have even believed if not for corroboration by multiple of her men, and would have chalked it up to simple distorted memory due to shock. The horrors that took place there were things she truly did not expect her friend to ever be capable of.

"You've no idea the pain it's caused me," White knuckles still clutched her sword for comfort. "I've not even been able to properly mourn Father, let alone my uncle and cousins," A tightness twisted in her chest. Words she'd held in for so long burst forth like a dam had been broken, treating Meike like the confidante she always had been despite her status as a traitor. What did it matter, anyway? It was clear she was going to have to kill her.

Her own best friend.

Lenara sniffed with frustration as a lone tear streaked her pale cheek. "That's not even including you, who may as well have been dead. Might as well be dead," She had to take a long pause to catch her breath, as the ragged gasps of sobs started to shake her chest and interrupt her words, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hide. Everyone she ever loved was gone - or would be gone soon. They really expected her to go on as a leader? Was this how she was doomed to live? Her entire life, she'd been groomed not to show emotion unless it was absolutely, one-hundred percent necessary. In front of others, she was to stonewall her feelings and put forth nothing but blankness. But even stone can be cracked with enough pressure. "And now, after not only dealing with your betrayal, and your taunting, I am faced with the inevitability of losing you forever." In an almost childish semi-tantrum as she continued to snap from the pressure, she slammed her blade against the floor. "Is there nothing that won't be taken away from me?!"
 
The slap was nothing, after month of freezing cold and death nothing was anything anymore, or so was trying Meike to convince herself, still, it hurt more than it should have. Her princess had become stronger than before, also it had always hurt the knight to see Lenara disappointed or angry at her. The brunette girl moved her jaw with a slight throaty sound and thought on how she should have prolonged the agony of Lord Vereiter a few days more as a way to make him pay for this too.

Her queen went onto a tirade and Meike could not help but look down at the cold floor under them, no matter how many times she mentally told herself to be strong, it tore her apart to see how much this whole mess had also wounded Lenara. She had not been expecting otherwise, still, a naïve part of her mind had expected it to be less harrowing. More than once, while the noble spoke, the traitor had to bite her tongue down in order to not to reply.

‘You too were my world, Lenara, the reason I fought, the reason I pushed everything to the limit. The only reason that kept me going even when my world was over, back in those frozen lands.’

She could not say it, not now… not anymore. For years she had lived for the princess, trained, fought, become stronger, only for her and no one else, and just like that, with a betrayal that had not even been hers, everything was gone.

The confessions that came from the queen were met with bitter silence that loomed over them, making each word seem all the more damaging. ‘Like knives to the gut…’ Meike thought, and kept her head down; her tongue held in between her teeth, it was like how things had to be…



Maybe it was how they had to be, but, then again, neither Lenara nor Meike had been ones to really play by the rules, the metallic sound of the slammed blade made the knight tense visibly, but the woman’s question was followed by the metallic and threatening sound of the chains suddenly tensing, like the sound of a feral chained beast that suddenly tried to escape its cage. Meike finally turned to look, well, more like glare at the queen; it was now noticeable that she was trembling way harder than before, her whole body seemly held in place only by the metallic manacles that were by now digging into her skin.

“Your position, your Majesty.” The growl that came was raspy and for a moment or two the traitor was about to cough, her throat felt drier than it should be, still, she managed to still herself and frowned more as she contacted her liege’s icy blue gaze with her own feral teal one. Her tongue actually bled from having freed itself from the hold she had it in; however the taste of blood was not that unwelcomed anymore. “Last thing I heard you still were Queen Lenara Edhelbor the first, are you not? No matter how many protests about it there have been, no matter how many times the crazy “holier than thou” goons have thrown a fit against a woman inheriting the throne, no matter how many others wanted to put their fat, ugly asses on the throne instead of you, or how many imaginary rules that has broken. You are still the Queen.”

‘Shut up’ She mentally told herself, but it was a bit too late for that, the traitor shook herself again, making the cold metal go ‘clink’ and ‘clank’ once again as Meike tried to keep her body from trembling.

“Your father wanted you to become the ruler of his lands, instead of becoming a trading coin like all the other girls, and his will was obeyed.” ‘In so many more ways than you can ever imagine, Lenara.’ The knight thought to herself and swallowed, or tried to do so at least, it was a very raspy sensation.

It infuriated her, it really did, to see her princess so hurt, so beaten, and to, on top of that, know herself to be partially guilty of that. Seeing Lenara breaking resonated in her and she began to crack too. In turn, she tried to hide it with another snarky remark.

“Still, it was a war filled with bloodshed, your highness; so don’t act like if you were the only one who lost something.”

‘Shut up’ Her brain was no longer screaming at her, instead it was bellowing like a whore who had not been paid for her services. That last one had backfired, it was too fucken true as to be just a snarky remark, no matter how much she had tried to force a smirk upon saying it.

Unlike Lenara, Meike has been barely able to even cry for what she was losing; her only peaceful moments had been whenever she managed to get some actual sleep, so instead she had taken her alleviation from fulfilling her own bloody mission. Crying only brought more problems than it was worth, given how the tears could freeze on her face, or at least bring a painful reminder of how much her body longed for warmer things.

So, when the Queen’s cheek was marked by the rolling of salt water, a few tears gathered on Meike’s eyelashes. The traitor frowned more and blinked quickly, to prevent them from falling and, instead, she spoke her last sentence:

“Or like if you were the only one to bury her father, without even having time to mourn him.”


The older knight had shielded her when Vereiter had sprung the trap, the venom had entered his body instead of hers, the Under Roamers had taken him to safety, but it was all for naught, he had died in agony either way. His burial ground had been a cold and empty cave that stunk of dead bears. He had been the one to demise her family, and still, he was more of a father than her own had ever been, as sick as that sounded, as strange as that was. Then again, by “normalcy” standards it was already strange that Meike had not really cared about her old life at all.

Her life had revolted around Lenara, Sir Leandro and the King, nothing else had mattered back then. Making the princess smile or joining her in her pranks, training with her, or roughhousing with her, just… being with Lenara had been all that Meike wanted, while obeying the king and training to become Leandro’s heir: the next protector and confident to the throne, had been her only purpose. Things were easier, life had made sense.

Twin trails of water made their way down the girl’s cheeks at that memory, and, shackled, there was nothing that the traitor could do to stop them beyond looking away to hide them, her teeth tightly clenched, her frown giving her a dangerous aura that she had never had when facing Lenara.

The King’s right hand’s death had unleashed all Hells in the state of Davorick, a simple matter of action and reaction really, just like the King’s death had prevented Lord Vereiter from even trying to lay a hand on Lenara’s crowned head by ripping off his hands, quite literally.


"You aren't the only one who lost it all, your Majesty, and, even more, you did not lose everything, for you kept what your father wanted for you, what every one was ready to strip you of."
She said, as calmly as she could, sounding more like half a snap than anything as her gaze bore into the queen's. The tears now having passed, still, the testimony of the marks left on the traitor's dirty face made them evident, but Meike did not know that and faced the woman once again.
 
The traitor's words rung true enough. All too many had made their dive for the throne after her father's passing - some hadn't even had respect enough to wait that long. Claiming it had taken work. Even post-coronation, some claimed her a traitor and recusant for taking the role of queen and demanded she be executed for treason. Treason! In her own state!

She couldn't help but snort a laugh at Meike's wording. Even as a girl, she had cared little for etiquette or 'ladylike' manners of speaking, and her familiar vernacular was comforting in this new world of priggish nobility and haughty commoners who thought she would hand them gold at first request and adjusted their speech in poor attempts to match that of the local aristocracy.

"And what of it?! What of my position?! What of what he wanted for me?!" She asked sharply. "I don't claim to be the only one who's suffered loss! You're a fool if you think this to be solely about myself. We all suffer now. The entire state grieved my father's death. Now, my people suffer each and every day with an incompetent leader!" Her muscles had tensed to the point of pain, and she dared not move for fear her body would give way beneath her. Though she knew Meike was right on some level, and she certainly did understand what had been meant by grieving a lost father, her self-worth had diminished to a grain of salt. It didn't matter whether you fought for something or not, even if you managed to hold your head up the entire time and scoff at naysayers, once you heard so many claim you unfit for something... It stuck. The seed would sprout roots and grow. If left unchecked, the weeds it created suffocated any welcome life around it, and no one had been there to provide the emotional support Lenara had needed to tend that mental garden.

Seeing the prisoner's tears wrenched her heart and squeezed it tight. It took a lot to sway emotion from Meike, she knew that. She was a woman born of tempered steel. It only made her own emotions threaten to flow more freely, when she was already struggling to keep herself collected.

More frustrating than anything, perhaps, was the effort it took to repeatedly remind herself that this woman in front of her was no longer her ally. No, before her knelt a traitor, shackled as she should be, who had slaughtered countless innocent people and torn her family apart. For all she knew, those tears could be a game, even as unlikely as it seemed for the ex-knight; after all, betraying her and murdering her family seemed an unlikely thing for Meike to do, as well.

By no means did she not empathize with her old friend; the bond between mentor and disciple was unlike any other, especially in the unique situation Sir Leandro and Meike had been in where he'd essentially been her father figure as well as teacher. His death was felt by everyone, however, the honest and reliable man a very valued figure among all of her knights.

Head drooping, curtains of blonde hair hid her tear-stained face. "Perhaps a trading coin is the extent of my worth," Voice a whimper, she closed her eyes tightly. Even speaking the words felt like a betrayal to her father. Certainly he was thrashing about in his grave as she spoke, ready to scold her to her uncle's state and back for saying something so disrespectful. Taught to have pride in her name, taught that she was to take the throne and lead their people into a brighter future, it was perhaps the worst statement she could make. "Do you truly not grasp this? My people face naught but misery. I cannot lead them! I was unready to take my father's place! And now, Uncle, fit to serve in my stead until I was better prepared, is dead!" Her voice cracked with nearly every other syllable.

Something about the way that Meike spoke so boldly to her, so informally, yet still had the respect to call her 'Your Majesty', twinged her nerves in the worst possible way. Maybe it was because it reminded her of their past, how they had always casually blurred the line between hierarchal ranks. Maybe it was because she was unused to such 'realness' still, her mind chained by other nobility and the protocols typically expected of her. Maybe it was the burning, confusing mixture of love and hatred she felt for the woman in front of her.

"You weren't there for me..." The real pain slipped out at last. "When I needed you the most... You weren't there for me..." Again she found herself at eye level with her prisoner, though her head was still down - and now buried in her hands. "I buried my father alone, Meike! With no one but servants - paid to give a damn about me - at my side! I needed you! I needed you more than anything, and where were you?! Slaughtering my relatives?!" Sobbing like a hungry babe wanting to nurse, she collapsed forward with her head on the teal eyed girl's shoulder. It didn't matter if she was a traitor. It didn't matter what she had done. For a moment, just for a moment, she was a child again, and Meike was Meike. Her best friend. Her sister. Her world.

Between her pathetic whimpers, she softly squeaked out, "How... could you... do that to me?"
 
The queen was so sure of the traitor’s involvement in Vereiter’s death. It was mostly sure that they had found the corpse of her mentor in one of the nearby caves of the Lord’s lands, or so Meike thought, the Under Roamers had gone away, the corpses in the land of Davorick had been left there though, those who had fought were mostly left half devoured, the intruders from other kingdom had been buried in their own camps, just outside the castle’s grounds. Sir Leandro had been given a quick burial in the cave where he had passed, along the allies that had fallen in battle.

The idea of the knights opening, profaning, the older knight’s already meager grave hurt Meike, physically hurt her, but there was nothing to do now, and it was the price she had to pay, right? Still, it felt as if her heart was shattering, to the point where she was sure that, when this was over, she would be dead way before they decided to execute her for desertion.

Lenara went on with her speech, and the brunette warrior wanted to hit the woman before her more than ever in her life. It took all of the teal eyed traitor’s will to keep herself down and not to shout at Lenara, not to tell her that she was shaming her father’s memory, that it had been the king’s will, that more lives than she could even imagine had been cut short because of that. That it had all been in order to shield her: shield her from the oncoming try of coup d’etat orchestrated by her uncle; protect her from the prepared hit from the neighboring kingdom which had declared war to them in order to steal part of their lands, specially their forests and rivers; avoid the outrage that would come from the common folk if the crime of kin-slaying was known to be committed by the royal family.

The teal eyed girl opened her mouth but could not say anything and, instead, snapped her teeth in a dangerous gesture. She could not hurt her queen anymore, not even when she wanted to slap her across the face at the moment, or bite her, or shout at her, anything, absolutely anything in exchange of shutting the daughter of the King up, of stopping that self-doubt, of showing her some way, any way, that she was able to handle the responsibility that had fallen on her shoulders, that her father had picked her for a reason, that there was no one, in the whole kingdom that could lift the kingdom back up but her, no matter what some weak witted fools said while they demanded to be protected by the same queen they were attacking.

Meike’s thoughts were, however, cut short when Lenara began to accuse her of maybe her worst crime of them all: leaving her liege alone, of leaving without even a word, without a warning. Killing, maiming, torturing, deserting, feeding on corpses, letting the brother of the king crawling on his elbows and knees as he begged for mercy, none of that was important, she would do it all over again if ordered to; but the heir of Sir Leandro would have given her soul just in exchange of managing to return one day, just one day, to be near her queen when Lenara needed her the most.

Both of them had buried their fathers, all by themselves, and the sword user still remembered the scent of death in that cave, the effort of digging, the snow entering her clothes making her shiver even when she felt numb, the realization that he would not be there tomorrow, the fear that grasped her and had not left her, instead said fear had become anger, hatred and fury, all directed at the owner of those lands.

There was a bump on her shoulder, it made the traitor return to the moment; the warmth and the queen’s scent made her give out a strangled whimper of pain, a whimper of built up loneliness and hurt that the hardened warrior had not shown in two years, two years? Two decades? Two centuries? It felt more, much more.

It had all been gone in a second, with just a couple of words: her best friend, her father and her mentor, her life, her mission, her very identity. They were gone, all gone. It was not fair, it was really not fair, Meike had not betrayed anyone, neither had Sir Leandro.

She leaned her head against Lenara’s, nuzzling her lightly as she whimpered, half mewling like a lost kitten that has been starved to the point where it did no longer have a voice. “Princess…” The brunette fallen knight tried to say, just like when they were kids, just like when she ran to the blond royal girl in order to play with her, or to get some comfort.

‘Princess, princess!’ A young squire would call back then, when running to her like an obedient puppy, happy to see her future ruler, happy to have the blue eyed young woman near, no matter their situation. The warrior remembered how she, still as a newcomer, would crawl onto the blond girl’s bed and ask her to read something for her, or would hide near her when she was beaten by one of the squires in a fight and needed time to recover so she could stand up again and get the rematch, how she would teach Lenara her wounds later on, or how they would roughhouse with for hours as they tried to determine who was stronger: The then taller, older girl or the smaller and younger squire.

“Princess… I never” She clenched her teeth again before finishing that sentence and sighed painfully, just pushing against her queen. Her mouth tasted like oxide and she felt as if her veins were covered by ice, her heart was racing and it was as if she was drowning. The monarch’s whimpers and squeaking finally made the younger fighter act.

She moved fast, Lenara was stronger now, but Meike still had her agility: like a cat, the renegade moved back, making the queen go forwards before pushing the sovereign in a swift motion that sent the queen back, making her fall onto her back. The betrayer immediately straddled Lenara in one swift motion, the shackles behind her making a “clunk” sound, and then, she stopped.

The warrior gave out a grumble, she could not take this, and she could not do this. And what the blue-blooded woman thought it was what Meike thought too: someone else would have been better in doing this, more specifically her master would have managed to do this.

Staring deep into the woman’s icy gaze, Meike spoke, sounding defeated: “If you want to hate someone, hate me; if you want to blame someone, blame me; if you need a scapegoat then here I am. Lenara, I could not be there, I can’t change that. I’m a traitor; I am a deserter and a murderer.” The worst part, maybe, was that she felt no guilt to those last crimes; instead, her whole guilt went to having left Lenara’s side. “I can’t change that, just like you can’t change who you are, what your father chose for you, or where you are now.”

Meike leaned her forehead against the queen’s and closed her eyes, feeling how they were too leaking, she was just… so very tired, the warrior didn’t want to die though, she didn’t want to leave Lenara alone, even when she knew it would happen.

Never in her life had the knight thought she would have to leave her liege alone, and it had hurt more than words could describe, Lenara was her reason to live, and the king had taken it away… no, Vereiter had; he, who poisoned the king with a cape of the finest pelts; he, who had killed Meike’s own master, her own father; that bastard, who was welcoming enemies upon his land, preparing to strike when the princess was most vulnerable. The anger came back to the warrior’s tired self, her snarky attitude was mostly gone but the hatred was tangible.

“Vereiter… he never deserved even the air he breathed; do you really THINK that the idiot would have given you anything? He would have sent you to one of his servants to become a machine of producing bastards.” A noticeable thing was how Meike systematically refused to say the Lord’s tittle. “Your father raised you to be a queen while Vereiter was raised to feed from the content of the privy of more powerful men, that was all he could do, that was all he knew how to do.” The warrior muttered and began to just give up, her body relaxed and Meike felt as if there was no way she could not even continue this charade.

“Lenara, the war is over… they killed off the heads of the enemy army, their king was forced to retreat, it’s all over, and your enemies are all rotting in their icy graves. No matter how much you fail now, no matter what happens, times of peace are coming. The kingdom was saved in your time, so no matter how much they hate you, your people will learn that…” The warrior said, not daring to open her eyes yet. “…By reason or by blood, that is the decision they can make, not whether you rule them or not, not whether they like you or not.”

The traitor was dizzy, so dizzy, she let herself become less tense and lost foot, or maybe the queen pushed her off? It didn’t really matter, she fell off from her once charge and just rested there. “Ouch…” She muttered, but stayed in place, if the daughter of the king wanted to pick up the blade and drive it into the warrior’s heart as a revenge for both what she had just done or what she had done two years ago, Meike would not move, nothing would make her move from where she was.

Instead of worrying about what would happen next, or anything at all, the betrayer sighed, still with the lingering fragrance of Lenara’s scent tickling her senses, remembering, or trying to remember better days, better years. Lost memories, and shattered dreams.
 
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