[(Fanfic Flamingo) PRONOUNS]
The bane of the existence of slash/femslash writers everywhere.
Art by Webgeekist
Fic is titled “The Victory” - set in the AU where Myka is the Black Knight and Helena is a Princess from another kingdom. Only now they’re married, living in Myka’s land and some terrible enemy has attacked…
The sky swam in and out of Myka’s vision. Or perhaps that was merely the smoke from the burned siege engines…she couldn’t tell. A part of the knight knew she should rise and see to the wounded and the mopping up and share the tired joy of her troops but every time she tried her vision blurred and her ribs screamed in protest and the world spun until she fell back to the earth, heavy and weak and so very mortal. Long gone was the heated rush of battle fever that had sustained her through the fight. Now, despite the knowledge that their enemy was dead, every limb ached and her heart beat sluggishly in her chest.
Myka knew she was wounded grievously, but she also knew she would not die. Not before the Healers could get to her and work their magic arts. She just hoped that they would come before Helena saw her. The Knight had no wish for her Lady to see her so weakened.
The Gods, or Fate, however, did not appear willing to grant her that reprieve on top of her victory on the field.
Myka was just struggling to open her eyes again when a familiar, pale face framed by dark hair formed in front of her. At first the injured knight wondered if she was simply dreaming and smiled in welcome at the vision before her, until…
“Damn you for a fool Myka, why did you have to lead the charge yourself?” The words were harsh, but the tears of worry were clear beneath them and tender hands cradled Myka’s face, removing any sting they might have had.
The knight struggled for sight, willing her vision to clear. She was greeted by the face of her love, her triumph, the very thing that had given her life meaning… who most definitely should not have been in the midst of a battlefield strewn with the dead and dying and the ravens already searching for their due.
Myka opened her mouth to protest but was silenced by a finger against her lips.
“Don’t you dare try to send me away. The battle is over, I am well warded by your squire and her Lady and if you think I am moving from your side until the Healers arrive you are sorely underestimating my stubbornness,” Helena spoke through gritted teeth and dark eyes shone brightly with tears the princess apparently refused to shed. Beyond her, Myka caught a glimpse of red hair and felt something ease knowing her squire Claudia was there. And where Claudia went, Leena was sure to follow. It was easy enough to picture the young squire with sword and shield readied and Leena with her re-curved bow. Helena would be safe enough but,
“I don’t have to like it,” Myka managed, words rattling in her throat.
Helena did not speak, but held a water skin to her injured knight’s lips and let a few drops of water fall into her mouth.
“Save your strength,” Helena ordered softly, gently easing Myka into her lap and bending down to press a kiss to a bloodied brow. “Your army secures the field and the Healers will be here soon my love. Rest.”
And because Helena was the only person who Myka would obey, the injured knight gave in to her body’s need for oblivion, letting her eyelids flutter shut, obscuring the beauty above her, and the destruction all around.
Curled protectively around her, Helena stroked bloodied fingers through tangled brown hair and looked out over the devastation, suppressing a shiver. Victory they had been granted, but the cost had been high.
As Myka sighed softly beneath Helena’s touch, the princess could not find it in her heart to regret it. A kingdom she might now rule and care for, but the only thing Helena truly loved lay within her arm’s embrace.
With Claudia and Leena standing guard, the princess settled in to wait for the Healers, silently counting each rise and fall of Myka’s chest and waiting for the moment gold-flecked green eyes would open once more.