#Sorry if it's not so very coherent gotta post before I lose my nerve

[andavrii]

Close Enough To Perfect - Garnet’s Half

I’m currently world building for some “semi-original” fiction. It’s a remix of some Arthurian fiction with a hefty dose of character concepts borrowed from @morgaine2005 as well. (Thanks again, Kellie!) While I’m world-building though, I’m dipping the toe back in the old pond by writing up a few little free-form stories mostly drawn from things I’ve told Kellie while I’m boring her to tears with my world-building. Things that impact the story but probably won’t really have a place in the story when I get that far.

So this story is about Garnet and Artemis (who is somewhat based off of COA’s Leona. The daughter of Guinevere and Lancelot, only in this particular world Guinevere is queen of Avalon’s neighboring country, Benoit and was, for a while, married to Arthur. The who why and what of how that fell out is either for the book or for a different drabble and doesn’t really have much impact here. Artemis is still the twin of Galahad, however Will is now Prince Percival/Val Kellie was most insistent that I could not name him Percy. *sad face*.)

Garnet is still the daughter of Morgause and Lot, only--well--little known fact “Garnet” was originally a character sketch I had developed for an Arthurian story, the twin of Gareth. Kellie did a lot of development to her character when she took Garnet over, I simply took and restored Gareth as Garnet’s twin and not her nephew. (Because there’s something in the water.)

Hopefully the rest of this will stand up on its own. Even if you don’t understand the world, the story will be enjoyable.

Length: 6472 words

Fandom: Original Arthurian

Rating: Teen (Barely for minor - like less than ten words of - profanity and one reference to nips on a statue.)

Warnings: It’s fluff? Nothing else though

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Close Enough To Perfect (Garnet’s Story)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“I--I understand, Your Majesty.” Garnet said, hating that her voice was trembling. Yes, focus on the immediate weakness, not how much this hurts, not how much you needed this to work. Keep your chin up, shoulders back. Don’t hunch, Garnet, don’t give her one clipped copper more power over you. She lost the ability to hurt you when she passed on the chance to help you.

Know what? Screw her. If she can’t see past Mother to see you, then fuck her to the ninth level of hell and back. Get angry, Garnet. Anger is safer. She lifted her head out of her curtsey and met the queen’s eyes, just for a moment, hoping the purples, golds, and corals blazed just like her grandmother’s did when something sparked Grandmother Igraine’s ire.

“Garnet, honey, do you…?”

“No.” Garnet interrupted curtly, before her manners caught up to her. “No, your Majesty, I don’t need a moment compose myself. I was to see my lady-mother after I finished here. I shouldn’t keep her waiting. I’ll see myself out.”

“... Garnet.” Queen Guinevere started.

“I will see myself out, your Majesty.” Garnet repeated, trying to draw the breath of cold, of wintry death that Mother’s voice always held. The queen’s eyes widened in alarm as Garnet nodded once and turned before she could say anything further.

Let her be alarmed, let her be whatever the hell she wanted. Garnet bolstered herself as she walked out of the throne room. Thankfully the audience, while taking place in the throne room, was a private one and only two of Queen Guinevere’s knights had been there to see her. She kept her head up, her spine straight, until she was out of sight of the royal bodyguards at the door to the throne room.

When she was alone in the hall, however, the fragility of her anger shattered, and as she did have an appointment with her lady-mother, she needed to be composed. No, Morgause was not a woman to be kept waiting. But Garnet knew a few shortcuts to the suite that her parents were using for this visit from all the years of hide and seek with Artemis and Galahad and Gareth. She could take just one moment. Just one to take a deep breath. She sank against the panelled wall feeling the coolness of the castle stone just behind it and tried to pull the coldness from the stone and into her body as her hands covered her face.

“Garnet?”

“Your highness!” Garnet gasped, eyes meeting the warm witch hazel green eyes of Benoit’s prince consort, he was standing there, concern and sympathy easy to read on his face.

“Your highness?” Prince Lancelot asked, cocking his head to one side and almost staring at her. “I can’t think of the last time that you called me that, what happened to Uncle Lance?”

That ended when your wife basically told me that she can’t trust me not to be my lady-mother. Did he not know that’s exactly what Guinevere was planning to imply in the meeting?

Actually he probably didn’t. His concern, deepening with every breath as he watched her, was too genuine. Lancelot was a horrible actor. He wore his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see. It had always been that way according to Papa. So she couldn’t hurt him. That was what Garnet’s lady-mother would do. Guinevere might’ve deserved it, but Lancelot did not.

“Courtesy is never misplaced, your highness. My lady-mother likes to remind.” Garnet said, bobbing her head in place of a curtsey, even allowing that little bit of familiarity brought all those things she was desperately trying to hide behind her armor too close to the cracks in it. If she had to look up into Lancelot’s handsome, open face much longer she was going to embarrass herself. “And--and speaking of my lady-mother, I am expected at her suite momentarily, if you’ll excuse me, highness?”

“Garnet, if you need a minute, I’m pretty sure one of Gwen’s sitting rooms is empty, you can always just…”

“No.” Garnet said, interrupting one of Benoit’s royals for the second time in less than a quarter hour. “I’ve abused her Majesty’s hospitality enough for one day. I will see you at dinner, your highness.” Garnet didn’t want to say she fled then, but she knew she did.

+++

Lance stared after little Garnet, quite differently than his young squires might’ve. And even though Garnet was a bare fourteen, just sixteen months older than Lance’s twins, the squires already did stare as she walked. Garnet had her mother’s hip-cocked strut and the daringly high heels on her shoes gave a deer-like fragility to that sway.

But whatever was so wrong. No, Garnet was never happy when she had to see her mother, but this was deeper than that. But …

… I’ve abused her Majesty’s hospitality …

Oh, fuck me, Gwen, you didn’t. God above why? How can you be the woman I love and yet so fucking heartless sometimes? And why didn’t you tell me?

Probably because she didn’t want to be reminded that she was being heartless until the poor child’s heart was broken beyond redemption.

He knew Garnet, as well as anyone who wasn’t her twin or cousins could. Even if Lance could talk Gwen around, which he probably couldn’t, Garnet’s pride would never allow her to take a place in the court now. And Gwen knew that. She was counting on it.

Lance was supposed to be in the practice yard in just a few minutes for Galahad’s lessons, but Lance’s second son could wait, right now he needed to champion another child far worse.

Setting his shoulder under his practice armor he executed a ninety degree turn straight off a parade field and marched off to throne room.

Gwen was definitely feeling some guilt right now. She was twisting a loose piece of hair, rich mahogany in color, between her fingers, hunched, just a little, on her throne.

“Lance.” Lance’s wife stood up and spread her hands.

“Really, Gwen?”

“Oh.” Gwen’s face crumpled slightly. “The decision is made, Prince Lancelot.” She shifted from the lost, alone, desperately lonely girl he had loved when she was still Arthur’s wife to his queen in the space of heartbeats.

“I know, your Majesty.” If she was going to play the game of titles, he could play that part as well as she could. Maybe better. “Even if I could change your mind, you could not ever change hers.”

“I’m sure...” Her face looked anything but sure.

Lance shook his head the same way he would’ve if one of his knights had completely fucked up beyond the pale. Not with the slight sympathy he’d have allotted a squire who was still young, but the same disappointed detachment of someone who could’ve done better but had chosen not to.

“You seem very--certain.”

“I am.”

“...How?” Gwen asked, eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Because she’s probably in her lady-mother’s presence, as we speak, telling her. The damage is done, Gwen. You fucked up.”

+++

Garnet didn’t even get all the way to the stairs, out of the sight of the guards, before the tears came. She’d held them off by every bit of trained will Morgan had graced her with. But at the moment she was not Lady Garnet, she was not a mage, she was not a quarter-fae of high court blood, she was a fourteen year old girl.

She was a girl who had lost the last avenue of escape, the last vestige of a whispered prayer that she could in some way make her lady-mother proud.

Morgause hadn’t even been mean about it. Garnet thought as she stumbled past the guards and into the stairwell. She had, to what had to be a strain on her abilities, even been sympathetic.

… And disappointed …

That was the Morgause that Garnet knew; she was always disappointed in Garnet. Garnet was an imperfect copy, a flawed fake. She would never, ever, be what Morgause was.

The stairs split one going left, one going right, Garnet had just a bare few seconds before she hit the landing to remember which way the practice grounds were. She didn’t know if Papa would be back from his ride yet, the stables weren’t far from the practice grounds, but Gareth, hopefully Gareth could get out of his sparring match with Prince Percival.

There she went again, betting on hope.

It’s better to have the minorest basic plan, Morgause said, than to throw yourself on the dice of hope. But you’ll never understand that, my little flower.

“No, I don’t suppose I will.” Garnet breathed barely over the clatter of her heels. The pet name was often mistaken by most people for a compliment, Garnet knew it wasn’t. A flower was pretty, pretty but fragile. Even the most beautiful rose, once you reached past the thorns, could be crumpled with so very little effort. Just like Garnet was now. Crumpled and smashed and thrown upon the ground.

It was, perhaps, understandable that Garnet just didn’t see where the paving pulled away from the wall. She couldn’t really see anything, tears smeared across her vision, beading up at the corners before sliding down like warm rain, destroying Garnet’s careful cosmetics, smearing rouge and kohl down her cheeks.

She took the cornering of the path just a little too tightly, her heel sinking into the damp ground, and then--well--the fall was inevitable.

As should’ve been the squelch of mud under her palms and knees as she reached the end of her arc leading her to the ground.

“Oh, look, Laz, it seems the little Avalonian bitch has found her way to the mud like all of her kind.” An affected breathy voice--masculine, not feminine--said from somewhere to her right.

“Well, as you say, my dear Con, it was inevitable. Poor thing. Do you think we should do something for her?” Laz, whomever he was, simpered back.

Garnet wanted to raise her head, to cover them in boils, let them belch up slugs, something. To be angry, to fight, to hurt someone like she hurt. But…

… she couldn’t …

All she could do was wallow in the mud like some toddler who didn’t know better than getting her best dress dirty. To crawl to forward, making it worse, because her hands were sinking even further into puddle.

Maybe the ground could be what her lady-mother, the queen, could not be. Kind. Maybe it could just open up and swallow her up. The breeze picked up for just a moment then, blowing the soft, intoxicating, smell of flowers, roses most of all, onto Garnet’s face. One last taunt.

The two courtiers were obviously warming to their task as they showed no indication of moving on.

Damn it. Garnet thought as she tried to rub the tears out of her eye with one sleeve, barely avoiding getting mud in her eye and leaving a streak of it across her cheek. A deep breath hitched in her chest at at least three points and did nothing to calm her.

A loud crunch of metal jangling together brought her head up fast. Someone in full practice armor had suddenly appeared in the mud not far from Garnet, given the depth their boots had sunk into the mud (paired, of course, with the loud clattering) suggested that they had scaled the wall and jumped down from the top.

The armor told Garnet very little, it was well-used and well-cared for, good quality as far as she could tell. Other than that? An unremarkable surcoat in the Benotian royal colors of deep blue and light blue, obviously not new, but also not shabby.

The squire? drew a practice blade from their belt and dropped into a stance, facing the two courtiers with an obvious air of menace.

Garnet heard the sound of fashionable shoes hitting gravel a moment later. They had barely started running before Garnet’s ostensible rescuer had turned toward her, holding out a gauntleted hand that Garnet just stared at.

The owner of those gauntlets tipped their helm back, not just the visor, but the whole thing. It landed in the puddle with a splatter that spat the viscous mud all over. But Garnet really wasn’t focused on the boots or, at the moment, even the mud.

“Artemis?” Garnet whispered.

“I won’t ask if you’re all right, you wouldn’t be in the mud if you were, but what’s wrong and can I help?” Artemis asked as the wind tugged at her hair, not so rich a mahogany as the queen’s, nor as sunbleached chestnut as her brothers and father, but a mingled combination of the two, the sunlight was hitting a highlight turning it to gold. Practically, as it had been tucked up under a helm, it was braided and wrapped into a crown, giving Artemis the appearance of nearly having a halo.

“I’m--I--I.”

“Okay, let’s start slower, with solving the immediate problem, up you get, Garnet.” Artemis bent down and slid her hands under Garnet’s armpits, lifting her.

Garnet’s hands made a sticky, slurping sound as they came out of the mud. Garnet looked at them and moaned.

Artemis tsked and pulled a waterskin from her belt, upending the contents on Garnet’s hands before taking a cloth from her belt pouch and scrubbing at the hands.

They weren’t entirely clean when Artemis stopped because her cloth was covered in mud, but they were far better than they had been.

The floral tinted breeze tugged at Garnet’s hair as well, tugging a strand across her face where it threatened to stick to the mud.

Artemis let go of Garnet’s hand to tuck the wayward strand behind her ear. “Can you walk?” Artemis asked, cocking her head to the side the same way that Prince Lancelot always did.

“I think--I think so.” Garnet’s legs felt like jelly, but didn’t give out when she took a few tentative steps toward the paved stone path.

“Great!” Artemis had always been just a little like a whirlwind, rarely still for any length of time, so Garnet wasn’t at all surprised when Artemis caught up one of Garnet’s hands and started off away from the castle, further into the gardens.

She was, however, surprised when Artemis stopped after about three steps and looked back at Garnet, or rather at Garnet’s feet. The younger girl frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as her lips pursed a moment later.

“Sit down a moment, will you?” Artemis said, gesturing to a bench.

Garnet shrugged and sat down on the hard stone, thankfully not squelching with mud. Although if she thought about it, where mud would be on the back of her dress--of which she was desperately not looking, it had been one of her favorites and now completely ruined--wouldn’t have been under her rear anyway.

Artemis went to her knees, unfastening the shoes that Garnet was wearing with an ease that was frankly astonishing given that she was wearing gauntlets. Artemis looked at the heels and then pitched them somewhere into the gardens before bouncing to her feet and extending a hand to help Garnet up again.

“Artemis, my shoes!”

“They’re three-quarters ruined anyway, who cares?” Artemis shrugged as she lead Garnet on across the grass.

“The gardener who has to pick them up?” Garnet frowned.

“It won’t be the weirdest thing the gardeners pick up today.” Artemis dismissed.

Garnet didn’t know how to argue with that, so she just didn’t. If she was going to be honest with herself there was something rather freeing about running across the plush green grass of the castle gardens barefooted like a child again.

Artemis seemed to have some place in mind and disinclined to talk, so they simply ran. Artemis with the grace of an elvensteed, Garnet with far less.

“Almost there,” Artemis said as she peered through the suddenly very structurally planted trees.

It took a moment for Garnet to realize they were now in the fruit orchard.

“Mum tells the gardeners to keep me out of here, so I kinda gotta look out for them.” Artemis told her. “She says at best, I’ll ruin my supper, at worst, nobody else will get any fruit the entire season.”

Garnet smiled faintly, but couldn’t manage anything more than that, the thoughts of how she’d ended up in the mud puddle, thoughts that had fled while they’d been running, caught up with Garnet once more.

Artemis’s eyes flickered over Garnet’s face, but she said nothing further as she lead Garnet through the trees. “But I’m not actually trying to get into fruit, there’s--well, you’ll see.” Artemis finally did say as she pushed aside a branch covered in the softest pink flowers Garnet had ever seen.

And see, Garnet did. The branch had hidden a little cup of a copse, a small pond at its heart. There was a fountain in the center of the pond; a statue of a woman carved out of white marble, she was technically not nude, wearing a what would’ve been a very thin dress that appeared to be molded to her skin by water, cupping her breasts, even defining her very pert little nipples. On one side the skirt was pressed against the woman’s legs, swirling around her in an echo of the hair on the other. The statue held a bowl that cleverly played up the interesting curves and lines of the woman’s body, spilling water down her arms chest, even around the curves of her hair and dress.

The entire pond was surrounded in more of those blossoming trees, many of them dewed and dotted with water from the fountain.

If Garnet tipped her head to one side or the other, she could see the shimmer of rainbows, the beads of water catching every bit of floral scented light and shining like diamonds.

Artemis was standing not far from Garnet, just watching her.

“This is my favorite place in the whole gardens. Val likes the hedge maze, the structure and arbors of it. There’s a bit of a wild garden with a wood swing that Galahad likes to sit on and read. Mum has her private gardens and as far as I know, the practice grounds are as close to the gardens as dad gets, unless he’s in Mum’s gardens with Mum. But this is mine.” Artemis lead Garnet around to the single patch of dry ground near the fountain.

“It’s … beautiful.” Garnet told her.

“Yeah.”

“I suppose here soon you’ll be bringing boys out here.” Garnet said, looking at the mud smeared on her hands and arms.

“ … No. I’d rather save this for important people.” Artemis plunked down on the ground like a stone dropping to the ground.

“Have you shown it to anyone before?”

“Only my twin.” Artemis admitted. “And now you.”

“Yeah, well, there goes your important people.” Garnet muttered.

“What?” Artemis cocked her head to the side again.

The tears that Garnet had been successfully repressing suddenly sprang up once more, the first two tumbling down her muddy cheeks before she even realized they were stinging her eyes.

“Do you know why I was in the mud in the first place?”

“Those stupid crummy shoes your lady-mother,” Artemis put a lot more mocking emphasis on the words than Garnet even dared in her own head. “Insists you wear.”

“Well, the heel caught in the mud, yes. But--your lady-mother told me--told me …” Garnet couldn’t even finish it, embarrassingly hitching off with a sob.

“Aw, fuck.” Artemis sighed. “She say why?”

“Morgause.” Garnet breathed out in between sobs. “I mean she didn’t--she didn’t say that …”

“But once you wipe the diplomatic bullshit off, that’s square on what she meant.” Artemis shook her head. “Shit, I’m sorry, Garnet.”

“It--it was my one hope, Artemis. I have no hope of rising in the court at Camelot. And--and my lady-mother--Mother is there--all the time. I think the last time she was at home for more than a few days was when Dindrane gave birth to Nimue. I mean I’m sure that Aunt Portia would give me a place in her ladies if I asked. But I would still live in the townhouse with my lady-mother. She would still be there every--every day, telling me how I’m not,” her voice completely dissolved into tears at this point, sobs replacing words, eyes glazed over so fully it took three or four blinks to spill enough to see when she heard fabric ripping.

Artemis had torn a large chunk off of her surcoat, leaning toward Garnet, the fabric soft and worn and just lightly smelled like rose petals. Or maybe it was Artemis’ that smelled like them.

As gently as one might clean an antique porcelain doll, Artemis wiped the tears from Garnet’s face.

“Sorry, I forgot a handkerchief this morning and I already used my sweat rag to clean your hands.” Artemis apologized.

“Why are you sorry? I’m covered in mud and cosmetics and--and…” Garnet’s sobs stole her words once more.

“Because you deserve so much more than an old rag pulled off my rattiest, oldest surcoat, Garnet.” Artemis cupped Garnet’s chin in her palm, turning Garnet’s face so the only place she could look was straight into Artemis’s eyes, greener and brighter than the queen’s ocean-water ones.

Garnet could feel her heart pick up in beat, her breath causing her chest to strain against the neckline of her dress.

“No, I don’t.” Garnet told her. “My lady-mother …”

“Your mother probably has a wiper because otherwise she’d spend half an hour after being on the pot wiping here,” Artemis took her hand away from Garnet’s chin to rub her elbow.

It was so--unlike anything Garnet had ever heard anyone say about her lady-mother that something that was like the lovechild of a sob and a laugh leapt from Garnet’s mouth before she could stop it.

“I just wanted, I wanted to get away from her, Artemis. No one understands, no one knows what she’s capable of. I don’t want to know what she’s capable of.” Garnet whispered around the sobs and gasps for breath that she couldn’t keep from bubbling up.

“If you want, Garnet, I’ll take you away from her.” Artemis laid a gauntleted hand on to of Garnet’s.

Garnet stared at the hand then shook her head, looking up into Artemis’s open--beautiful--face. How had she never noticed that Artemis looked exactly like an angel out of a painting?

“I don’t want your pity, Artemis.” Garnet said.

Artemis bit her lip and looked briefly toward the fountain. “You don’t.”

“What?”

“Garnet, you have my heart, my love, everything that I am, everything that I will ever be, if you want it, you have since we met when we were little kids.” Artemis took a deep breath and looked back at Garnet through the veil of her long dark lashes. “But you will never have my pity. I love you too much to pity you. Because you are worth so much more than what pitying you would imply about you.”

Garnet’s jaw fell slightly, her breath picking back up again.

“I--I understand if you don’t feel the same. I mean you’re--you’re everything I won’t ever be.” Artemis continued on, looking at the fountain once more, voice a little shaky as well. The light through the blossoms shifted as the breeze died down as if everything had gone still and silent, waiting. Once more it touched on Artemis’ hair, turning it into a golden halo. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. Or what I want for you.”

“What do you want for me?” Garnet asked, her voice a crow-harsh croak.

“Everything! I want you to be happy, I want you to be loved. I want you to have someone who feels about like I feel about you and you feel the same about them. I want you to not have to fear your mother, your brother. To the point of wanting to sneak across the border and put string at the top of every steep set of stairs they walk down just to see you safe.” Artemis shook her head.

I--I don’t deserve any of this, how could Artemis…?

“I know I’m not clever like Val and Galahad, even Mum. I’m not good with people like Dad. I can’t say this better. I know I’m not much to offer, but…” Artemis trailed off with a sputter like a horse shaking its head. “I--I understand.”

The younger girl shifted as if she were starting to get up.

Garnet’s hands shot out, one to grab Artemis’s, the other cupped Artemis’s chin, turning it so Garnet was once more looking into Artemis’s eyes. She leaned toward Artemis, their foreheads coming to rest together.

“I wouldn’t say your mother is all that clever.” Garnet whispered.

Artemis giggled. “Maybe not. She thinks you’re like your mother after all.”

“I know why she’d think it.”

“Don’t let her off the hook, she’s being an ass, Garnet. It’s not you--it’s her. Maybe understandable her, a non-paranoid queen is usually a dead queen, but it’s still her and you don’t have to forgive her or not be hurt by her actions.”

“Wow, you--wow.”

“Galahad. He’s been talking philosophy ever since he got back from Sir Boring’s.” Artemis shrugged. “Even a bone-headed grunt like me can pick up a thing or two.”

“You’re not a bone-head. You’re,” Garnet leaned back, smoothing down the fly-away hairs the breeze was tugging on. “You’re loyal and you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for and you’re--chivalrous.”

“Well, I try.”

“And succeed. You’re--you’re perfect.” Garnet touched Artemis’s cheek. “And I--I don’t know why you love me--but I think--I think I love you too.” Garnet didn’t know much about love, her parents, her elder brother, their marriages were more about compatibility than anything remotely resembling love, but she--she could try. What did she have to lose? “I’m gonna be bad at it.”

“You couldn’t be bad at something if you tried.” Artemis said using her fingertips to tilt Garnet’s head to one side, leaning toward her.

Garnet also leaned forward, hand sliding into the loose space where Artemis’s braid was coming unpinned. And then soft as a whisper of rose petals across the skin, Artemis’s lips were touching Garnet’s. She lost herself in the blossom scented breeze, the burble of the fountain, the lap of water against gravel, in the quiet, soft, honest desperation with which Artemis kissed her, the same desperation Garnet echoed with.

“It’ll be okay in the end.” Artemis whispered against her lips.

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then it isn’t the end. Ask my brother, he’ll tell you.”

Garnet smiled and buried her face in Artemis’s neck. “I could stay here forever.”

“No, because we need to get you a different dress, we do still have a court dinner tonight, unfortunately. I like food, but I like it better when I know what it is.” Artemis waited just long enough for Garnet to raise her head before bouncing to her feet.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to wear. All I have left that I haven’t worn is my formal for the masquerade tomorrow.” Garnet sighed.

“You can wear one of mine. It’ll look better on you than me anyway.” Artemis held a hand out to Garnet, at some point she’d removed her gauntlets.

After Garnet took it and got to her feet, Artemis pulled her into a hug. “You smell like roses.” Garnet commented before blinking, because she was pretty sure that Artemis was blushing.

“Yeah--I have ‘em put in with my clothes and it’s the scent in my soap.”

“So why are you blushing?” Garnet asked as they walked, hand-in-hand back toward the castle.

“Because--I--they remind me of you.”

“They…” Garnet stared at her.

“Roses are beautiful and they’re--fierce--and amazing. And so are you.”

“Morgause calls me her little flower, because they’re easily crushed and scattered.”

Artemis narrowed her eyes slightly. “It’s worse than I thought, does she like need reminders to breathe? I mean if she’s that stupid …”

Garnet chuckled. “Perhaps. Artemis?”

“Yeah?”

“How are we gonna get in the castle without everyone seeing me? I am kinda covered in mud.” Garnet admitted toward her feet.

“There’s a balcony not far from my room, only half a wall up.” Artemis shrugged as if it were that easy. Maybe for Artemis it was.

“I’m not really that good at climbing.” Garnet admitted.

“I can give you a boost.”

“You just want to touch my butt.” Garnet told her primly.

“Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean that getting onto the balcony can’t be a decent enough side objective.”

Garnet couldn’t help it, she laughed.

“Not this one either. It doesn’t matter how much you tug on the laces, Artemis. If I take anything other than a shallow breath in this gown, the court is going to get an eyeful.” Garnet sighed.

Artemis sighed and put her chin over Garnet’s shoulder, her arms around Garnet’s waist, pulling Garnet slightly back against her chest.

If she hadn’t been on the verge of panic over what she was going to wear, she might’ve just leaned back and stayed like that.

“Huh, I have an idea.” Artemis kissed the side of Garnet’s neck and dashed out from behind the screen. A moment later Artemis reappeared with the mud-stained dress and laying it down on the ground. She flipped the soft teal silk up exposing the lace underneath, frowning slightly. “Okay, this could work.”

“Do I even want to know?” Garnet asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Watch a genius at work.” Artemis grinned bouncing to her feet again and came back with two paintbrushes, three pots of ink, and a pair of scissors. “Or rather help a genius work. Help me spatter this lace with this ink.”

“... Are you sure we want to stop off at ‘genius’?” Garnet looked at the brush Artemis had just laid in her hand.

“You’re lucky I’m cute.” Artemis stole a quick kiss before dipping her own brush in the ink and tossing it at the lace.

Garnet’s brows drew in, but she followed suit.

“Wait, shouldn’t that be that you are lucky I’m cute and not I’m lucky you’re cute?”

“Nah.” Artemis grinned continuing to dot the lace with an adorable frown of concentration.

After the first piece of lace was spattered with black ink, Artemis took the scissors and cut the lace off of the dress. The second piece of lace was spattered with blue ink and removed as well, Artemis washed the brushes and opened the third pot of ink, which was gold.

“Mum would kill me if I wasted this by just randomly spattering it.” Artemis told her as she knelt down next to the dress. With careful precision, Artemis dipped her brush into the gold ink and drew vines and mystical looking swirls on the lace.

Garnet felt very much the idiot because she still didn’t get what Artemis was doing, but watching Artemis who stuck her tongue just slightly out of the corner of her mouth as she worked, Garnet decided she didn’t really need to know.

“Okay, that should be good. Now we just need the starch and some way to get these dry.” Artemis said, standing up and planting her hands on her hips.

“I can get them dry,” Garnet said, pursing her lips.

“Oh? How?” Artemis asked.

“Ma-a-a-agic” Garnet wiggled her fingers exaggeratedly.

Artemis giggled before dashing off.

Where Artemis found the energy, Garnet didn’t know. She hadn’t done half as much as Artemis today and she was exhausted. Also worried because the none bell had rung a while ago and Garnet still didn’t know what she was going to be wearing.

Artemis once more returned with a bowl of laundry starch and another, larger, brush. She quickly, but carefully, applied the starch to the fabric with a studied hand.

“If this won’t come out wrong, you’re actually pretty good at this,” Garnet said.

“Dad again. He likes to assign chores when discipling us, he says that knowing how to cook, clean, launder, and patch stuff won’t hurt any of us. Plus it gives us more respect for our servants. We might be royals but we won’t be brats on his watch,” Artemis said. “As I am terrible at cooking, I usually traded Galahad or Val for laundry duty.”

“I think my lady-mother’s head would explode if Papa told me to get myself down to the laundry and do chores.” Garnet shook her head.

“Do you think we could ask your father to do it, then? To see if it works?” Artemis asked holding up the piece of lace.

Garnet snickered and applied her will to the fabric, warming the delicate threads of silk with a steady stream of magical energy.

“Great!” Artemis said after a moment. “Do you at least know how to sew? Because if not, we’ll have to go find a maid or something.”

“One better.” Garnet said.

“More magic?” Artemis asked, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.

Garnet nodded.

“Too awesome.” Artemis grinned. “Just let me get these cut down to size and we’ll be good to go.”

With that, the other girl took the scissors to the pieces of lace, cutting the worst off the mud off and shaping what was left into panels and--actually Garnet had no idea what the other pieces were.

“Okay, we’ll take this one, because the colors are the closest.” Artemis said picking up one of the discarded dresses and arranging the lace pieces around the neckline before nodding at Garnet.

Garnet shrugged and used magic to fuse the pieces together and to the dress where Artemis indicated.

“That is really, really cool. And much quicker than watching me stitch and tack. I can do it, but I’m kinda slow. You know who is actually insanely good at sewing? My brother Val. Mum says it appeals to his meticulous nature.”

“And Galahad?” Garnet had to ask.

“Would rather stick the needle in his eye. Actually I’m surprised he hasn’t.” Artemis shook her head. “Of course if he would pay attention to the patch and not the book he’s got his nose in while trying to patch something, he’d do better. Once he sewed his surcoat to his lap not paying attention. Not like a little bit of his lap, straight across it. Even Val laughed at that.”

“Okay, so what is this?” Garnet gestured to the random oddly shaped pieces left.

“An artistic solution to a practical problem, so--uh--sew where I tell you, okay?” Artemis grinned.

Garnet took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly trying not to seem like she was doing so.

Gareth grinned reassuringly at her. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

“If you say so.” Garnet breathed back.

Gareth patted her hand, smile identical to Papa’s. He might’ve had a clever response, but one of the young pages ran up to them right then.

“For you, my lady.” He bobbed his head in a bow and was off like a shot before Garnet could do more than accept the handkerchief that he shoved into her hands.

Garnet tilted her head to the side but unfolded the piece of lace trimmed linen. It contained a single rose in the softest shade of peach Garnet had ever seen. There was no note, but Garnet smiled anyway, she knew.

She tucked the handkerchief into the neck of her dress before sliding the stem of the rose into her hair by her ear, the stem the perfect length for doing exactly that, thoughtfully trimmed of thorns.

“His grace, Lord Gareth,” the herald announced. Gareth extended his arm to Garnet, who took it with a nod. “And her grace, Lady Garnet.”

The huge doors to the great hall opened and stepping forward actually pitched them into shadow. Whomever had designed the great hall at Benoit Castle had a serious fetish for drama, there were two huge candelabra flanking the door, but most of the time they were shaded by elaborately wrought metal cages, this gave a moment or two of near darkness before the court could see anyone entering.

It wasn’t until one stepped out into the light of the huge overhead chandelier that a person could truly be seen by the court. Gareth wore a high court doublet in burgundy and sable, identical to the one that Papa wore as he sat at the high table and grinned at them.

Garnet wore the gown of Artemis’s that they had modified that afternoon. The lace had become a decorative collar, the ink covering any stains of mud that might’ve soaked into it, and also covering the fact that the neckline of the dress barely covered Garnet’s modesty.

Those odd pieces made up curling decorative wings, like a faerie’s, laced onto the back of the dress covering the fact that Garnet couldn’t quite lace the dress down without cutting off her ability to breathe.

If anything Papa’s grin got broader as Garnet and Gareth made their way toward their seats. Morgause’s face, however, grew stormy. Her eyes, a deeper lavender than Garnet’s own eyes, and lacking the peach and orange tones that gave Garnet’s a sunset appearance, narrowed.

Artemis was good because while the base of Garnet’s dress was the pieces of a ruined gown and a borrowed one that didn’t even really fit, few would say that Morgause’s elaborately cut velvet gown in a rich purple that, now that Garnet was looking, kinda clashed with Papa’s burgundy, was the more impressive of the two.

Artemis, to her father’s left, grinned at Garnet and winked like the gold chains woven through Artemis’s hair.

“That is--quite the gown, my little flower.” Morgause said as Garnet sat down next to Papa.

“Thank you, my lady-mother.” Garnet murmured toward the table, seeing the metal and leather headdress Morgause wore out of the corner of her eyes.

“I never said I liked it.”

“Well, I do.” Papa grinned slightly up at Garnet. At least he had a proper chair this time, the back the same height and design as the other chairs, but the legs were taller and the seat much higher with a small stool tucked off to one side making it easier to slide into. Often when they visited other courts he found himself sitting on a couple of thick books like a toddler.

It was a nice touch, but the day’s events led Garnet to wonder if that was Queen Guinevere’s thought and care …

Or Prince Lancelot’s.

“Me too, my lady-mother. I like it as well,” Gareth said.

“Seems you’re outnumbered for the moment, my lady.” Papa turned to his wife, eyes narrowed slightly.

“So it seems.”

If only the words didn’t seem to herald retribution to come, Garnet couldn’t help but shiver.

[uswntxfootball]

golden (ona batlle x nedwnt!reader)

your crush on the spanish defender was blatantly obvious, so what happens when jackie introduces you to her?

word count: 1934 ish

rated: S for soft bros, I for idiocy, and C for chaotic.

——

you don’t know when your crush on her started.

probably from one of jackie’s story posts.

you’re not entirely sure.

but here you are, double tapping a like on the spanish defender’s new post.

“i’ve never seen someone like something so fast.”

you whip around to see jackie with a teasing smile.

“shut up,” you blush.

“you should let me introduce you to her i-“

“no i’m okay thanks.”

jackie quirks an eyebrow before huffing:

“i don’t understand why you don’t let me introduce you to her. for all you know you could’ve had a girlfriend by now.”

you let out a snort at that.

“yeah right.”

“alright whatever put down your phone and stop staring at her post we’ve got to get to training anyways.”

you shoot a glare at the midfielder, who rolls her eyes upon seeing your response.

and with that, jackie starts walking out of the room.

she makes it halfway down the hall before turning again, only to see you still in the room, staring down at your phone.

“y/n!”

“all right all right i’m coming!”

~~

“y/n.”

you stiffen on the ground.

the room remains silent.

“you know i can see you right?”

you still don’t speak, opting to shuffle slowly and quietly out of the room instead.

you see jackie mute herself and turn in your general direction.

“come say hi or something instead of sitting there in the dark like a weirdo.”

jackie lets out a sigh in defeat and turns back to her computer at your silence.

“guess i’ll talk to her on my own then.”

the midfielder was on a manchester united zoom call, and you, you totally weren’t sneaking in to catch a glimpse of ona… no definitely not.

you continued backing out slowly, but suddenly you hear a heavy spanish accent and your head snaps up…

promptly hitting the table above you.

“fuck!”

you slap your hand over your mouth half a second after your outburst.

jackie turns to you and has to stifle her laughter upon seeing you.

“you’re hopeless, you know that right?”

you let out a pained grunt from under the table, and jackie just shakes her head and laughs at you.

you hear jackie tell her call she’ll be right back and the chair is pulled out from in front of you.

when she ducks down to look at you, you’re rubbing your head and pouting, something that the midfielder finds very amusing.

“come say hi. i’ll introduce you.”

you shake your head vehemently, determined to not do what jackie suggested.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

“you’re the most stubborn person i’ve ever met.”

“is that a compliment?”

“not really no.”

“well i’m pretending it is one.”

“well it’s really not.”

“shh go back to your meeting and let me pretend in peace.”

~~

“JACKIE!”

jackie jumps and almost drops her toothbrush in fear.

the panicked look on your face disappears temporarily as you laugh at her response, your action causing her to glare at you through the mirror.

“what do you want?”

the panicked look quickly returns.

“why didn’t you tell me about our next game?”

jackie furrows her eyebrows:

“what do you mean? why would i tell you? its not like you’re not at all our team meetings.”

“you know i don’t pay attention to what sarina’s saying ninety percent of the time!”

jackie shuts off the sink and spins around, flinging water in your face before saying:

“and how is that my problem?”

you grab her arm and jackie almost laughs at the expression on your face.

she finally asks:

“what’s wrong with this upcoming game?”

you groan and say:

“it’s against spain that’s what!”

jackie now does laugh, finding your panic funny and reveling in your frankly very sad pining.

“well now you’ll be able to see her in person rather than through a screen for once.”

“THAT”S THE PROBLEM.”

you groan again, and jackie only laughs, pulling you into a hug before saying:

“now can i introduce you to her?”

you pout.

“no”

“you’re so annoying. why won’t you just let me introduce you to her?”

what you say next just makes jackie laugh out loud.

“cuz i’ll be a gay mess.”

she snorts.

“are you always this pathetic?”

you roll your eyes and shoot a glare at her.

“are you always this annoying?”

jackie scowls.

“watch your mouth. or i’ll talk to ona next game.”

well that sure shut you up.

~~

your heart was beating frantically, to the point where you were surprised your teammates couldn’t hear it.

you were on the bus, on the way to your international friendly between the netherlands and spain.

and you.

you were losing your mind.

“y/n!”

you look up when jill calls your name.

“you okay buddy? you look a little sick.”

jill’s concerned tone earned a snicker from jackie beside you, who you promptly kicked in the shin before turning back and smiling at jill, saying:

“yeah just nerves i guess.”

jill’s brows furrowed a little.

“it’s just a friendly dude, you’ll be fine. you’ll nail it.”

jackie adds quietly so only you can hear:

“that’s not the only thing she’ll be nail-ow!”

you elbow her in the ribs before giving jill an apologetic smile, your face sporting a bright red blush.

“thanks jill, appreciate it.”

jill nods slowly and apprehensively before turning back towards viv, the two forwards engaged in conversation once again.

you turn to jackie, who’s doubled over, pouting at you.

you roll your eyes.

“oh stop it you big baby.”

jackie scowls, then grins mischievously.

“i guess i’ll just talk to ona after the match today then…”

your eyes widened in panic.

“no no no i take it back i take it ba-“

“nope i’ve made up my mind.”

“please jackie let me- no- don’t i-“

jackie just sticks her tongue out at you and turns towards the window.

~~

you tried so hard.

so so so hard not to make a fool of yourself on the pitch.

you ended up resorting to not even glancing in the full back’s direction in hopes that that would help.

it didn’t really.

it also didn’t help that the pitch was muddy and therefore slippery.

one can put two and two together.

there was one super embarrassing moment in the first half in which you had the ball and began making your way through the spanish midfield when you saw the number 2 making her way towards you.

you were so nervous in being close to her that she barely touched you and somehow you ended up on the ground.

the ball was put out of play a few seconds after, and the spanish defender stuck her hand out at you to help you up, whispering an “i’m sorry i didn’t mean to push you” which left a bright blush on your cheeks as you managed to get out:

“don’t worry i just slipped.”

but by the end of the game you were getting into your groove, and finally managed to function like a normal and coordinate person around her.

the game ended with a 3-1 win for the netherlands, 2 goals courtesy of viv and 1 from daan.

but all in all, you weren’t all too focused on the game.

you ran to jackie when the whistle blew.

the two of you talked a little bit about the game and slowly the people on the field fell into groups, club teammates saying hi to each other, and old friends finding a topic to talk about again.

you were walking backwards, as you were talking with jackie about the game, something that you did after every game.

you always trusted jackie to tell you if you were going to run into someone.

you should have remembered about that bus conversation.

you saw jackie look past you for a second and before you could turn to see what was ahead you body collided into someone else’s.

one look at jackie’s face and you knew who it was.

luckily for you, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, ona’s reactions were quick and promptly held onto your waist to stabilize you before you fell to the ground.

you face was flushed scarlet at the feeling.

jackie approached the two of you.

“ah perfect, y/n, ona, ona, y/n, the two of you talk, i’ve gotta go do something, bye!”

one of these days you were going to kill jackie.

the heavy spanish accent broke you out of your thoughts.

“hey i’m ona.”

you blushed at the proximity.

if you had thought that the spanish defender was pretty in photos, well jeez.

here up close you could see every freckle on her face, her eyelashes, and in all honesty it was too much for you.

you felt like you were going to pass out.

she still hadn’t let go of your waist and the two of you were inches apart from each other.

she seemed to realize this too and quickly let go.

“um i’m y/n..” you mumble, cursing yourself for your ineptitude to talk to people.

well maybe just really really really fucking pretty people.

one of ona’s brows quirked up as if she was thinking about something, and then she said:

“your voice sounds familiar.. you sound like- are you the one who cursed on that one united call?”

you looked down at the grass and blushed harder.

“yeah that would be me.”

ona let out a laugh that made your heart stop in your chest.

“well since jackie’s so keen for us to talk, why don’t we get a coffee sometime and do just that?”

your heart felt like it had disappeared at this point.

“you want to get coffee with me?!”

you cringed internally at how loud and enthusiastic your reply was.

the corners of ona’s mouth tugged up a little and she said:

“well of course, i don’t waste my time when i see something beautiful.”

so your heart was gone. long long long gone.

“y-i-um” you stuttered all over the place, unable to form a coherent sentence.

ona broke out into a full grin (which of course, just made you even weaker at the knees), and said:

“jackie was right, you are cute.”

you really were going to kill jackie one day.

you didn’t realize how quiet you had been until ona speaks up again.

“so about getting coffee…”

she looks up at you expectantly, and you open your mouth before closing it quickly, instead nodding ferociously, something that made ona laugh.

the two of you turn when ona’s name is called from across the field, to see mapi standing with an amused smirk on her face, yelling something in spanish you didn’t understand.

ona turns to you again.

“well i’ve got to go. i’ll text you about coffee?”

you nod and give her a timid wave.

“and it’s a date!”

you blush a little and nod again, not trusting your mouth to speak normally.

she’s halfway across the field when you shout after her:

“wait you don’t have my number!”

ona turns and gives you a one word response:

“jackie!”

you roll your eyes and give her another wave before you turn towards your locker room, where you see jackie standing and watching you.

she mouths an “you’re welcome” in your direction.

you just shake your head.