Work Text:
'You are a pedant,' Jaethal said.
Jeanne looked up, one eyebrow raised, 'is this your way of calling me an idiot?' she said, tapping her pen onto the papers that she had been reading, correcting and signing at her bedchamber desk.
Jaethal ignored the question.
'What does it matter, these reports?' Jaethal gestured in an utterly derogatory fashion at the official documents. 'What does it matter that grain goes here or there, that this man is a murderer, that those ten families died of disease or flooding, or some merchants' eggs got lost! You should not concern yourself with the lowly matters of peasants and servants!'
Jeanne did not lower the eyebrow. 'This is my duty, Jaethal. The Stolen Lands would suffer if I did not read these reports and make my decisions. And anyway,' Jeanne said, lip quirking up. 'I thought you weren't interested in becoming my advisor?'
'Look at yourself!' Jaethal scoffed, not deigning that worthy of a response either. 'You look near death! No. Already dead.'
Jeanne hummed, signing something. 'So like a certain lady of undeath that I know? That doesn't sound too bad.'
Jaethal's hand landed on the report Jeanne had just picked up to read, slamming it down onto the desk.
'In two days, we will set out, and you must lead us. We will fight bloody battles, and you must be clearheaded and strong. Have you forgotten that there are those out there who are looking for me, who seek to kill me? What will you do when we meet them, and you are stumbling on your legs? What kind of patron will you be to me then?'
'If the kingdom is strong, then we can protect you from the people who would punish you for your despicable misdeeds,' Jeanne replied, for once, without a grain of humour to her voice.
'You will never forgive me my past, ' Jaethal noted, sounding mildly amused.
Jeanne observed her for a moment. 'I did not think you wanted my forgiveness.'
'Correct.'
For a moment they were still, Jaethal bent over Jeanne quite menacingly.
'Did Linzi put you up to this?' Jeanne said at last, sighing, and lifting up a hand to massage her temple.
It had in fact been Linzi, who had relentlessly whispered her worries at anyone who would or would not listen, but Jaethal did not consider her the instigator of her actions. That little ball of fluff could and would never have such influence over her.
'I am here on my own account, representing my own interests,' she said with a sneer.
She bent even closer to Jeanne, and Jeanne sat back to let it happen.
'I underestimated you once, I thought you were weak, so concerned with the tedious and unimportant. Now...' She pulled up her lip to reveal a row of perfect white teeth. 'You have proven yourself competent, even exceedingly powerful despite this pointless obsession with everything that you have proven is beneath you.'
'Because of,' Jeanne said, smiling mildy and raising her eyebrows once.
Jaethal stilled.
'You intend to agitate me to the point that I'll leave you alone,' she said.
'Not at all,' Jeanne said with perfectly ambiguous sincerity, 'I love spending time with you in my bedchamber at 2 a.m.'
'Enough,' Jaethal stepped back. Jeanne breathed a subtle and small sigh of relief. She was nursing a monster of a headache, and she had at least 15 reports to go through yet-
Jaethal grabbed Jeanne's chair and pulled it away from the desk with a screech. Jeanne was so stunned by this that she did not think to anticipate Jaethal picking her up as though she weighed nothing more than a feather.
Jeanne was fast, precise, agile, and she had very good technique - but she was not strong, comparatively. Jaethal was strong. She swung a huge scythe around, so that was no surprise. Jeanne had simply never had that strength used against her.
She was finding out what that was like now, as she tried to squirm out of Jaethal's arms, thrashing and flailing and protesting and making absolutely no headway on escaping.
'Be still,' Jaethal said and then threw her on the bed. Jeanne attempted to sit before she'd stopped bouncing.
A hand came down on her chest and pushed her down into the mattress like a report to a desk.
'Sleep,' Jaethal said.
'This is very forward,' Jeanne said, despite knowing that Jaethal could not really be flustered. She tried to slip away from Jaethal's rather nightmarish presence at the edge of her bed and even more importantly, her reach.
She rolled, and nearly ripped her shirt by Jaethal's sudden grip, and pushed at the arm that came down to pin her, then thrashed, then stilled, then tried again when Jaethal let her go. And again. And again. And again. She was panting with exertion and Jaethal was not breathing at all. But she was looking more and more irritated.
Jaethal was not a patient woman, and that was to Jeanne's advantage.
'You want to do this all night, Jaethal?' Jeanne asked between breaths. 'Surely you have better things to do. I know I do.'
This did not have the desired effect of Jaethal storming off in disdain and impatience. She looked instead, dangerously intent.
'You're right. I do not want to babysit a stubborn fool all night.'
Then she climbed on top of Jeanne, pinning her arms with her knees and grabbing Jeanne's wrist.
Jeanne stopped breathing, processing the new development - a development she had never even imagined. Then she gave a flop, like a dying fish on dry land, but could not move herself under Jaethal's pressing weight on her arms and chest. She attempted to wrest her wrist free but Jaethal's grip was cold iron. Something that felt like rope slipped around it.
'Really,' she said weakly, 'this is not necessary.'
Jaethal grabbed her other wrist, and Jeanne struggled, without success.
'Jaethal - really - truly' - Jeanne paused.
'...you planned this,' she realised, incredulous.
'Does not strategy decide the outcome of the battle?' Jaethal, replied, smugly. Jeanne now did regret saying that once or twice in moments of triumph.
Then Jaethal slipped off Jeanne and off the bed. The rope was tight, but not so much so that Jeanne's bloodflow was cut off. Jeanne felt the knots.
'Don't bother,' Jaethal said, 'no one can untie these but me.' She casually swiped the hidden knife from behind the nightstand before Jeanne even thought to lunge for it.
Jeanne pulled on the rope. It did not give. She realised she would be able to sit up against the headboard, but would not be able to leave her bed.
'You know I can simply burn through these?' Jeanne said.
'You can't,' Jaethal said, and did not stop Jeanne when she spoke the words and let heat pool into her hands. The rope did not burn.
She lay slightly stunned, Jaethal looming over her like some beautiful and dark monster from under her bed. She pulled on the bindings. And again.
Jaethal seemed highly amused.
'I'm not sure this is what Linzi had in mind,' Jeanne said, 'or Valerie.'
Jaethal scoffed, 'your hound and jester will thank me for doing what they were not capable of doing themselves.'
Jeanne pulled on the ropes again, harder now, to really test them. Wildy, she used all her strength, chafing her own wrists. They would not yield. Jaethal watched her carefully.
Jeanne lay down, panting, and let the reality of the situation wash over her. She felt very heavy and the mattress very soft, and her wrists ached.
And still there was this pale-faced shade at her bedside.
'What if I scream?'
'You're right,' Jaethal said slowly, 'should I gag you?'
Jeanne met her gaze steadily, even as red crept into her cheeks at the indignity of the suggestion.
Jaethal smiled slowly, finding that she quite enjoyed the upper hand over their stalwart leader.
But more importantly....
She grabbed Jeanne by the ankle, who jumped like she'd been electrocuted.
Jaethal dragged her hand up over leg, hip, belly and chest to lay her hand there again. She leaned close, dark eyes pits in the closing darkness, as the candle on the desk burnt down. Jeanne had gone fully red, though not as red as her hair, and remained uncharacteristically mute.
'I think you're finding this isn't so bad, now.' Jeathal said, slow and knowing, and arched her brow when Jeanne said nothing, which said enough.
'We might even do this again sometime,' Jaethal suggested, noting the way Jeanne's eyelids fluttered. Jaethal pretended to mull something over. 'I think I will let your pair of pet suitors know that they should wake you up in exactly 8 hours.'
That made Jeanne's cheeks flare even deeper. She opened her mouth but Jaethal said,
'Don't.'
Jeanne closed her mouth.
'Don't.'
Jaethal brought up Jeanne's own knife and rested the cold metal across her lips.
'Don't make even a single sound.'
Jeanne's chest heaved under Jeathal's hand, her body so very alive, responsive - capable of feeling.
She slipped the knife under Jeanne's chin, who bared her throat under the pressure. Jaethal could feel her rapid pulse, endless, relentless. She lifted the knife.
'Let's leave that for next time,' Jaethal promised.
She stalked to the door in four long strides.
Jeanne lay quiet and still on her bed.
'Sweet dreams,' Jaethal said.