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Story Notes:

So, straight up: If a lot of the names in here seem to look eerily similar to the names of other characters of mine, I assure you it is not a coincidence. I was somewhat inspired by something SpookyTaco did in using an alternate world for character development, and felt this would be a fun way to take my Omegas characters and put them in a different situation. This is very much a for fun thing. It'll get updated when I feel like it. But I hope people enjoy it.

Author's Chapter Notes:

A shortish introduction

 "Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider your order. Bringing him with us is a liability to the safety of not only every woman under my command, but to the safety of the the Royal Heiress as well. All would be for the best were he to simply remain behind."

 

"Patrol Captain Marion, are you suggesting that the Prince is incompetent?"

 

That booming reply, marked by a questioning drawl that latched onto it as the sound reached every corner of the audience chamber, itself the size of a large village, set off a chain reaction of gulps from the red-headed patrolwoman and her four person escort.

 

"N-not in the least, Your Majesty," the kneeling woman replied, gritting her teeth as her grip on the hilt of her sword tightened. The hovering platform upon which she knelt, occupied by herself, her escorts, and the royal siblings, began to to slowly edge closer to the Holy Queen's radiant face, as demanded by Her Majesty's will and carried out through he immense magics that heeded her beck and call. The Queen's striking eyes, alight as if by a blue fire, were narrowed, studying her and awaiting further explanation. "He is indeed competent ma'am, despite his...despise his being a 'he', but he has no real battle experience, your Grace. All he has is training and his sword-"

 

"And was that not all that you had, Captain, just a year ago?" the stone-faced royal queried as she propped her building-sized head upon the knuckles of her hand.

 

"I had my magic, Your Majesty, something he does not," the Captain pleaded with a nervous lick of her lips. "His sword arm is fine, but against what we hunt it shall not be enough. No one will be in greater danger, and I worry that his presence and title will demand...demand a sacrifice, my Queen. A sacrifice that could put all of us in danger, or get us killed."

 

A grunt from her right caught the Captain's attention, and her eyes shifted to take in the kneeling presence of the royal siblings. Clad in their midnight cloaks which covered their leather armor, their swords driven into the platform, both siblings affixed her with an unpleasant glare. It was an even guess as to where the dissatisfied grunt originated.

 

"Patrol Captain," the Queen deadpanned after a brief pause, "I have considered your request, and it is denied. I have faith in the Prince's skill to carry him through this ordeal. He has trained under and bested every notable swordswoman in the lands under my rule. I do not foresee an issue, and in fact feel that his presence can only serve to better both you and your women."

 

"Better how, my Queen?" Marion asked, her eyes widening after the words left her lips. The Queen arched one massive eyebrow at her slip of the tongue, and the Captain's ears picked up on a tell-tale click of annoyance beyond her lips.

 

"I suspect that you will see this, Captain, when he has cause to unsheathe his sword," the titanic royal stated simply. The sound of stone grinding against stone originated from nearby, and it was with a start that Marion noticed that the platform was splitting in half down the middle. She and her escorts, separated from the section holding the Prince and Princess, began to lower with their section toward the marbled floor.

 

"Go and see to your preparations, Patrol Captain," the Queen's voice commanded from on high as their platform lowered along her immense, radiant body as it rested upon the golden throne, the fabric sea of her crimson gown passing underneath them. "I will have parting words with my children before your departure. They shall meet you at the Southern Gate in an hour. Be ready to disembark to the Bron Marsh by then"

 

"Yes, Your Majesty," Marion replied, placing her fist to her armored chest and rising from her kneeling position as the platform came to rest in its home divot upon the floor. As she turned to leave, with her escorts following suit, one thought pervaded her mind:

 

I'm not dying for that idiot Prince.

 

********

 

Coreth Lindonus rose as they departed, returning his sheathed sword to his belt. Accompanying him in similar action was the Crown Princess herself, heiress to the Queendom of Lindonus, Clare Lindonus. Both heaved a sigh of relief as their eyes watched the Queen's stone visage melt away, her eyes becoming soft and her lips curling into a matronly smile, signaling the departure of the Patrol Captain and her colleagues. Keeping up royal appearances was an annoying thing, for all of them, and the two siblings welcomed the sight of their mother's upturned palm rising level with their platform, beckoning them to board its tanned expanse.

 

"I don't think she cares for me too much," Coreth commented as he hopped from the stone platform onto the soft palm of his mother, stumbling just a bit as his feet sank into the flesh. His younger sister followed, giggling lightly as she came to stand beside him once more in their mother's hand.

 

"You did embarrass her in front of the Hundred Blades just a week ago in that little contest with the throwing knives," she commented with a smirk, drawing a shrug from her brother.

 

"No worse than what you've done to her in sparring," he commented dryly.

 

"Ah, but it was, because you're..."

 

Clare's words trailed off then as she caught her words, that smirk turned into a frown. For a moment, she looked away, brushing a gloved hand through her long black hair.

 

"Because I'm a man," he finished for her grimly. It really was an embarrassing thing, for a woman of position and nobility to be bested in any contest by a male, regardless of that man's own position and accomplishments. That was simply how things worked in a world where only women could draw upon magic.

 

"Because she's a haughty, spoiled thing," an amused voice boomed from above them, and the siblings turned their gazes up once more to meet that up their mother, still smiling down upon them. "And I do hope you embarrass her out there."

 

"I'll endeavor to do so," he replied with a snicker. His mother's free hand appeared suddenly then, and two thick fingers - an index finger nearly three times his six foot height and a thumb that dwarfed him all the same - clasped around his sides in a tender grip he had known since he was a child, lifting him from the palm and bringing him before his mother illuminated blue eyes.

 

"I mean it, Coreth," she stated in mock sternness, "I want you to show her and the others what the pinnacle of swordsmanship looks like. I want you to embarrass them, enough to where they grow out of this neglectful complacence that has them so dependent on their magic in lieu of their blades."

 

Coreth's grin grew wide at that.

 

"As if I'd do anything less, Mother," he remarked. "I put forth nothing but my best when I draw my sword, if for no other reason than that doing anything less could get me killed." His mother's own grin returned at that.

 

"Smart boy," she declared, as she began to lower his body somewhat, closer to the vicinity of...

 

"Mother, please don-"

 

Coreth's light resistance was cut off as he was promptly covered by the Queen's large, soft lips in an affectionate smooch that ended soon after it had begun with a slightly wet pop. A giggle sounded from below, Clare no doubt, as he was separated from the pink lips.

 

"Stay safe out there, Coreth," she stated softly, concern in her voice. He simply nodded in response as he was set down next to his sister once more, and Clare herself muttered a swear as the fingers moved over to and fetched her in much the same way they had done to her older brother. It was Coreth's turn to be amused as his sister was brought to their mother's lips for similar treatment.

 

"Mother, you don't have to do this to me, too," she whined as her own kiss ended.

 

"Oh, but I do," the Queen stated wryly as she returned her daughter to her palm. "I'm not going to be able to pick you up for much longer, after all. Now, I believe it's time for-"

 

"Mother," Coreth interrupted, catching his mother by surprise as she simply looked at him, mouth slightly agape. He never interrupted her.

 

"Yes?" she asked quizzically, curious about what had spurred that deviance from the norm.

 

"Thank you, for letting me do this," he stated, and both his sibling and his parent caught the sadness in his voice. "For letting me do...something."

 

The pity in his mother's gaze at that was palpable.

 

"There is no need for thanks," she responded tenderly. "Regardless of the shackles society puts upon you, you're still my child. My son. And you will have a proud life, a meaningful one, and I will help you in any way possible to make that happen. But...if you do want to thank me..."

 

Her lips curled in a mischievous smirk, and Coreth grimaced. He had a feeling what this was going to be about.

 

"Try not to get hurt, hm? Especially that handsome face. Melodia will be coming to visit you again soon, if you recall, and you do need to continue to look your best for her."

 

"Yes, Mother," he remarked with a sigh. He knew the comment was in good humor, but being reminded of his arranged marriage was a bitter thing. Not that Princess Melodia wasn't sweet, or anything, but the young woman was a bit...grabby, and he often found himself nestled within the cramped but comfortable confines of her fist when she visited. The fact that he had little choice in who his wife was to be was the real stinger, though.

 

The hand arrived back at the hovering platform, and both Coreth and his sister departed onto it before it promptly began to lower.

 

"Both of you, look out for each other, okay?" the Queen's soft voice requested as the platform continued on its way. "I want both of you to come back safely to me, understood?"

 

"Yes, Your Majesty," they both commented simultaneously as the platform nestled in its divot, family time shifting back into business time.

 

The siblings turned to leave, putting their mother's three hundred foot form at their backs as they marched away from her. Eventually they arrived at the door, and left the audience chamber of Queen Abigail Lindonus behind as they made their way into the expansive and seemingly limitless expanse of the Castle City of Gan Ral.

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

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