Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As dusk fell, so too did the mood throughout Citadel tower. News wasn't looking any better from the night before--if anything, it seemed her Majesty's condition only grew worse with time. The illness that plagued the Lady Hannah was startling for those who knew her. The same woman who had lead a country to victory, who had unified the land of Sol, now whithered away quietly in her bed.

Visitors from all over came to her in her final hours; doctors and nurses of course shuffled in an out of her room, doing what they could. The salarian doctor who traveled all the way from the southern province of Sur'kesh declared that nothing could be done for her now, except to try and make the Queen as comfortable as they could in her final hours. Sir Anderson heard these words, and maintained his guard outside her chambers in a stony silence.

Somehow, his presence by the door felt like an intrusion. Lady Hannah might have chosen him for her Royal Guard personally, yet he was far less seasoned than any of the other knights of the Citadel. He had seen battle, but he was still young, still new. Her majesty hadn't really cared about that. "You're destined for something great," she had told him with a smile. "I can tell."

The words felt so hollow in hindsight, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth no food or drink could get rid of. How could he hold on to a promise for greater things when death drew closer and closer to her bed? Lady Hannah and her late husband were the best thing that had ever happened to Sol, and she was quite beloved among her people for a very good reason. This was not an opinion--this was a fact.

Yet it wasn't just her imminent death that had soured the mood. As horrible as that alone was, it was a question of who would succeed her once she had faded from this world. The Queen was not without an heir, but her son would not be of age for another year. The second child--a girl--was still very young, barely just a toddler. There was no other family, not that anyone knew of. The line of succession was in chaos.

"It would be tasteless to ask," Sir Anderson commented out loud, mostly speaking to himself.

"Tasteless, but unfortunately necessary." The young knight jumped, having not seen his superior arrive. Sir Hackett was older than him, perhaps the most experienced soldier under the Queen's command. It made him the obvious choice as captain of the royal guard. "Her Majesty must choose someone to rule in her place when she's gone." The frown on the older knight's face deepened as he turned away from his subordinate. "You remember the war, Sir Anderson. Unifying the country was hard enough. If there's no one to keep it that way, then it was for nothing."

Though he said nothing, Sir Anderson did silently agree.

Through the window, he watched the moon rise into the evening sky. The gloom hung heavy in the air, but he couldn't help but admire how beautiful the night was. A cloudless sky, stars shining brightly against the great empty void. Tonight seemed like a night where a terrible storm or cold would be more appropriate for the mood. Sir Anderson glowered at the moon suspiciously, as if the pale orb in the sky were silently mocking all of them for their loss with its beauty.

He jerked when the door to the queen's chamber's suddenly opened, drawing him back to reality. The salarian doctor stuck his head out, large eyes unblinking as he regarded the two knights. "Her Majesty wishes to speak with you both."

The younger knight cast one last look at the moon as he followed Sir Hackett into the room. He couldn't help the sense of dread that seized him as they stepped across the fine carpets to the queen's bedside. Though he had seen her many times before, Sir Anderson was always startled by how different the Queen looked, by how much sickness had changed her physically. She looked like a shell of her former self, and hardly the vibrant woman who had brought peace to Sol. He stood aside, gaze moving over his superior and her majesty before offering a polite bow.

"My two best men..." Anderson tried not to flinch as he looked back up to Queen Hannah. Her smile was tired, her kind blue eyes looked to be sinking into her skull. Even her skin seemed pale and stretched over a skeleton, her dark hair falling around her face and pillow in a shaggy mess. He remembered Lady Hannah in battle, when she had fiercely defended her people in the war. That woman had been a force to be reckoned with. This one was tiny, weak.

"Rest, my lady. Don't use up your strength just yet." Sir Anderson glanced up at Sir Hackett when he spoke. He hadn't expected such gentle reassurance from his superior officer. His words were met with the Queen's tired laughter.

"I'm no fool, Sir Hackett. I know... I know I don't have much time." She settled her gaze on the older man, reaching out to touch his arm with her bony hand.

He watched in silence as Sir Hackett reassured the Lady Hannah, promising to uphold her will to his dying breath, to look after the prince and princess. He promised that when they were old enough, he would advise both of them to the best of his ability. Sir Anderson watched as the queen smiled back at him, until her eyes slipped closed for the final time and her fingers fell to her side.

Years later, he would look back on this moment, and remember that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Lady Hannah declared her son, John, the King of Sol with her dying breath.

Chapter Text

Though winter had come and gone, the cold lingered into spring like an unwelcome guest. The Citadel walls did little to keep the night chill out, which meant Samantha Traynor spent her evening tending to fireplaces, checking to make sure everyone had blankets, and perhaps putting on a pot of tea for those who desired a nice warm drink. Miss Traynor didn't mind the work so much, and would often joke that all the hustle kept her in shape. Besides that, she worked as a housekeeper for the princess. The position was a great honor--a simple woman like her, working for the royal family! Though long-standing rumors to the contrary persisted, she found the Lady Jane was remarkably easy to work for as well.

The Lady Jane was also utterly impossible to rouse in the mornings.

Since taking over as the head housekeeper in the princess's quarters, Miss Traynor had tried everything she could think of to get the girl out of bed and ready for the day. Most would agree that getting a teenager out of bed was difficult enough, but she had never met someone so eager to remain buried under the blankets as the princess. So far, the most effective method seemed to be simply ripping the curtains open with an obnoxious announcement. Which was exactly what she did every morning, much to Jane's never ending frustration.

"It's a beautiful morning, m'lady! You will definitely want to be up and about to appreciate this one!" Sunlight poured into the room, making Jane groan and pull the covers swiftly over her head. Undeterred, Miss Traynor simply drew the curtains back, tying them into place properly before setting to work rekindling the fireplace.

"I can have breakfast brought to your quarters if you do not wish to eat in the dining hall. Might be for the best, as it is well past breakfast and you would look quite silly eating alone."

A grunt came from under the covers.

"Sir Anderson wishes to continue your lessons after you have finished eating."

Another grunt.

"Also, Master Kaidan requested your presence in the garden."

That much made Jane suddenly sit up in bed, hair askew, a wide grin on her face. Kaidan Alenko had been her best friend since childhood. His father had served with her parents during the Unification War before the both of them were even born, and despite the three-year age gap, the two had barely spent much time apart since they met. Lately, however, things were different; where Jane had her lessons in swordplay with Sir Anderson, Kaidan had his biotics training with his own instructors. Getting together once a week and comparing notes, so to speak, had become one of her favorite passtimes.

Satisfied that she finally had the princess's attention, Miss Traynor smoothed her hands over her apron as she moved toward the armoire, shaking her head with a motherly 'tsk'. "Well, if that look is anything to go by, I suppose I should assemble a suitable wardrobe for today's activities."

Jane stretched her limbs out and pushed herself out of bed while the other woman sorted through her clothing, setting aside a set deemed appropriate for the princess. Jane had decided around the age of eleven that she didn't need a servant to dress her and insisted on doing it herself, something Miss Traynor gave up on arguing about a long time ago.

In a few short minutes, Jane dressed herself in a simple, but warm outfit Samantha had selected for her. She tugged on a warm coat over her clothing and brushed out her long auburn hair. The one thing Jane did allow Miss Traynor to do was braid her hair, pinning it back in an elegant style that would keep the long strands out of her face. Samantha did it far better than she ever could.

The princess looked at herself in the mirror, checking to make sure she hadn't somehow messed up any buttons in her clothing. "The leggings are a good idea," she commented thoughtfully. Turning to look at the other woman, Jane frowned slightly. "Have your own quarters been warm enough?"

Miss Traynor waved a hand dismissively as she turned toward the door. "We keep warm. The interior rooms hold in more heat than the tower," she explained. "We've made sure that the servants quarters are stocked with enough wood to burn through the evening. Be rather useless if I lost a finger or two to frostbite." She laughed it off, but Jane sensed a bit of unease in her tone.

"Now off you go, I wouldn't keep your friend waiting in the cold for much longer!" Miss Traynor bowed politely as she excused herself, but paused in the hallway. "...By the way, I would avoid the King for as long as you can today. He's rumored to be in one of his ah... 'moods'."

Jane watched the housekeeper as she scurried off down the hall, off to tend to her other duties. She didn't look away until the other woman disappeared around a corner, and the frown lingered for far longer than that. She rather liked Miss Traynor. Though they might have come from different social classes, Jane would readily consider her a friend, someone she could completely rely on. Samantha was strangely one of the few people Jane felt she could speak so candidly around.

Descending the stairs at a brisk pace, Jane tugged the coat around as tight as it would go as she made her way out the door and into the courtyard. She was greeted by the cool morning air stinging her cheeks, making her shiver. Damn this cold! If only the ancient structure had been built a bit further south, the capital residents might have been spared such a bitter start to spring. She looked over her shoulder at the enormous walls, and the single great tower that rose from the very center, overlooking the city. Hard to believe that the Citadel had been around for so long, years before the Unification War--centuries before the many races of Sol were even aware of each other.

Today, the great walls felt less like an awesome reminder of Sol's wondrous history and more like a structure specifically designed to instill her with a sense of dread. Jane shivered and averted her gaze from the ivory walls, and walked just a bit faster toward the gardens. The place was, of course, lacking in the way of plant life. When the weather finally warmed up more, the groundskeeper would replant flowers and tend to the shrubs that remained, bringing the place back to life with vibrant color. Yet even as barren the place was, Jane felt relief wash over her the moment she stepped passed the gate.

Kaidan always waited for her in the same spot whenever they met, by a large oak tree on the far side of the garden. The branches remained barren, stretching out into the sky above her in a comforting tangle. She had many fond memories of watching her friend attempt to climb it multiple times, only to fall right on his rear. As she stepped around the large trunk, Jane finally found Kaidan waiting for her, seated on the ground with his cheeks stained pink from the cold. He smiled when he saw her. "I wondered if our princess ever planned on getting out of bed."

"Sometimes I think that you and Samantha conspire to guilt me," Jane complained half-heartedly. The pouty look she gave her friend only made Kaidan shake his head with an amused chuckle, so she stood up straight, grin returning. "So, how has your morning been? I suppose you could update me on what I missed while I slept?"

She watched her friend carefully--the flicker of worry passed through his dark eyes before Kaidan turned away, looking out toward the stone fence border that surrounded the garden. Beyond that were steep cliffs that overlooked the city. It was one of Jane's favorite views. The look in Kaidan's eyes, the uncertainty in his expression brought back the sense of unease that she had felt staring up at the citadel.

"...What happened?" She asked softly, though if Traynor's warning held any truth, she might be able to guess.

He exhaled a breath, shoulders slumping slightly as he pushed himself up to his feet. "Well, you know how everyone likes to gossip, right?" She nodded, but Kaidan hesitated, pursing his lips as he gathered his thoughts. Jane didn't rush him--she simply waited for him to continue. "There's talk in the kitchens. I heard a group of them gossiping earlier, just after breakfast. They're saying a factory worker was executed this morning for stealing."

Executed for theft. Jane pictured her elder brother, King John of Sol, ruler of the Citadel. She tried to reconcile the image of her brother, the one who had looked after her and taken care of her after their mother died, and the idea of him ordering such a senseless death. It was true that John always seemed so... ill tempered these days. She would have to be utterly blind to deny it. He had grown distant, colder to her--shutting her out of his life. Jane always assumed it was his dedication to his duty.

How far had he fallen since they had begun to drift apart?

Jane looked at her friend, and considered the possibility that he was overreacting. But she knew Kaidan. She knew he wouldn't have said a word to her if he didn't think there was merit to the hushed whispers between the servants in the kitchens.

"Well," she began after a long silence, "I suppose we should see what we can learn. If it's a rumor, maybe we can put their minds at ease."

"And if it isn't?" Kaidan asked skeptically.

Jane grew silent. She didn't really have an answer for that. She didn't really want to believe it was true at all.

Sighing in resignation, Kaidan ran his fingers through his short hair. "Tell you what: I'll go see what I can learn from around the citadel. You're probably late for Sir Anderson's lessons anyway." The princess's eyes widened at the realization, causing her friend to laugh. "Go on, I'll find you this evening and tell you what I've learned."

"Right, of course." She shook her head, gaze trailing over toward the town again. How many in the surrounding city were terrified for their lives right now? The thought made her shudder. "Be careful, alright?"

"I will be," Kaidan promised. He gave her one last smile before turning to leave, and Jane was left alone in the Garden with her thoughts.

---

"You're late!"

The exclamation made Jane come to a halt as she entered the room, nearly tripping over her own feet in shock. Sir Anderson had spoken up louder than she expected, but he sounded more amused than genuinely upset. He grinned at her, shaking his head and not budging from his spot next to the fireplace. She had known Sir Anderson for as long as she could remember. He had been among her mother's most trusted men and when Sir Hackett retired, was chosen to take his place as captain of the royal guard. There wasn't anyone alive she trusted more than he to protect her, and to teach her how to fight.

As a result, the training room had become one of her favorite rooms in the Citadel. She had quite a few fond memories of her time spent here--the progress she made day by day with a sword, the stories Sir Anderson had told her growing up. The marble floors and racks of weapons of all shapes and sizes echoed memories not only of her own intense training, but of the experiences of her parents before her. These were a source of inspiration for the princess, like a goal to reach. Her mother and father had been the fiercest warriors Sol had ever seen. Jane wanted nothing more than to make them proud, wherever they were now.

After composing herself, Jane stepped further into the room. "It isn't my fault--you were simply early," she responded casually, an impish smile on her face. "So, what are your plans for me today, Sir Anderson?"

The knight rubbed his chin with a gloved hand, as if considering her question carefully. "Well, I definitely think you've been knocking dummies over for far too long." Pushing himself away from the fireplace, he picked up a small wooden box by his feet. The knight seemed to handle it with such care--as if it might break from the slightest touch. The old, but well cared for wood was made of polished oak that practically sparkled in the sunlight.

"Your mother wanted me to pass this down to you when you were ready," he explained. "And I think she would agree that you are." Intrigued, she reached out for the box and undid the golden latches holding it closed. The box creaked noisily, as she slowly opened it, wondering what exactly she would find. Inside, resting in deep blue satin lining was the most intricately designed blade she had ever laid eyes on. The polished steel gleamed with an ethereal quality, its grip inlaid with ivory and crystal bluer than the sea. An intricate design of leaves had been etched into the blade itself.

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and it had been left to her. Jane could not believe something so precious and well-made could ever be meant for her, status or not. Her eyes trailed over the leaves, taking note of a series of elegant symbols carved near the grip, just where it met the blade.

"What does this mean?" She asked, fingers brushing over the symbols.

"From what I understand, that's the language of the Quarians," Sir Anderson replied. "I don't understand it myself." He watched as Jane drew the blade from the box, testing the balance in her hand with practiced ease, admiring the fine work the must have gone into making it. "She wanted to present it to you herself. I promised..." Trailing off, he shook his head and closed the lid to the now empty box. "Her majesty was an amazing woman. She would proud of you."

Jane looked away from the weapon in her hand to the knight, surprised. Sir Anderson very rarely spoke so reverently of her mother. He had respected her, that much was always clear--but her death had always been a source of great pain for both of them. Speaking of her was difficult.

Clearing his throat, Sir Anderson set the box aside and stood up straight. "Now then, a new blade is no excuse for slacking off during training! Especially not these days. I--"

The door to the training room came open so fast it slammed against the wall with a loud bang. It bounced, wobbling precariously before a hand reached out to stop it from hitting him in the face. Jane and Sir Anderson both whirled around to find Kaidan, out of breath, eyes wide, looking as if he must have sprinted halfway across the Citadel to meet them.

"Master Kaidan, what--"

"There's a protest going on by the gates!" He said quickly, cutting off Sir Anderson's question. Jane exchanged a startled look with the knight before her friend continued. "The King has ordered the guards to--"

A single shot rung through the Citadel walls before he even had a chance to finish his sentence.

"Damn it!" Sir Anderson quickly shoved his way past the young noble, momentarily forgetting his place. "I'll see if I can call the guards off. You two stay put!" Jane opened her mouth to protest, but the knight was already sprinting down the hall in the direction of the commotion.

"It was the execution, I think. Some workers all gathered at the gates and..." Kaidan scrubbed his fingers through his short hair, grimacing. "We need to talk to your brother. You're his sister, and I am... I was his best friend. Maybe John will listen to us."

Jane tried to think back to a time in which John actually cared to have her in his presence. That had been longer ago than she cared to admit, but the shouts from the crowd were growing louder by the minute. There hadn't been any more gunfire, but the anger was clear--telltale thumps against the gates made their intent just as clear. Sitting by and letting John simply execute them would not do. But maybe...

Nodding, she motioned for Kaidan to follow after her. Innocent people were not about to be slaughtered just because John couldn't handle his temper. Not if the princess had any say in the matter.