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Waverly Earp really shouldn’t be the queen. Everyone knows this. Everyone knew that Ward should live a good, long time, and that there were two older successors to the throne. Waverly was the princess, the little angel who could do no wrong.
That’s not what happens though, and Waverly is queen of Purgatory before her 21st birthday. Raised as a princess rather than as a ruler in her own right, she’s a little spoiled, but Waverly, being the person she is, uses this to accomplish even more good than she might have otherwise.
When she’s told she’ll never form a truce with the outsiders who survived the war with the Revenants, she doesn’t listen. She fights, with her wits and her words and the occasional threat of carefully applied force, and against all odds, she wins them over. Doc, in particular, becomes one of the kingdom’s staunchest defenders.
When Waverly hears that the kingdom can’t afford to feed its poorest, she goes from door to door, unheard of for a ruler, until she’s collected enough food for everyone.
None of this compares, though, to when Waverly learns that the beautiful new guard might be leaving.
At least, it doesn’t compare in Waverly’s mind. Maybe that’s because this is something she wants for herself more than for anyone else, but Nicole Haught belongs here. She makes everything better, for everyone, and it’s not an entirely selfish move.
It’s just that Waverly definitely isn’t thinking about how good a guard Nicole is when she enters the other woman’s quarters in a flurry of ruffles.
“You can’t leave.” These aren’t supposed to be the first words out of Waverly’s mouth, but she crosses her arms rather than retract the statement.
Nicole blinks at her, then resumes packing. “You don’t need me here anymore. Wynonna will take my spot on the guard, now that she’s back.”
“That’s not—“ Waverly resists the urge to stomp. “Just because she’s here doesn’t mean you have to leave.”
“Your Majesty—“
“At least call me by my name,” Waverly says, her voice nearly a whisper by the time she’s done talking. “You did it once.”
Flashes of Nicole’s first night on duty race through her memory: Nicole catching Waverly in an embarrassing position, Nicole helping Waverly finish getting dressed for the ball, Nicole leading Waverly through the first dance, walking her back to her rooms, and whispering a gentle, “Good night, Waverly.”
It was nothing.
It was everything.
“Waverly.” Nicole’s voice cracks, the first time Wynonna has seen any distress in her tonight. “I have to leave.”
“Give me one good reason.”
“Your sister—“
“One good reason, Haught. Not just an excuse.” Waverly swallows through the sudden lump in her throat. “You owe me that before you leave my service.”
Nicole sets down the breeches she’s folding and sits on the bed, looking down at her hands.
God, her hands are beautiful.
“Fine,” Nicole breathes. “I’m leaving because I… I can’t…” Nicole breathes again, and this time, it’s sharp and forceful. “Waverly, if I stay around you any longer, I’m going to fall in love with you. It might already be too late after just a few months, but I can at least try.”
The room falls silent as Waverly studies her guard. Waverly’s heart is soaring at the confirmation of Nicole’s feelings, but she knows she needs to tread carefully. Nicole is much more proper than Waverly is, but Waverly really can’t lose her. She just needs to get Nicole to look at her, and then they can figure this out.
“Am I that much of a chore that you aren’t willing to have a personal relationship with me?” she says finally.
It works; Nicole’s eyes fly to hers immediately, panic clear in them. “What? No, Waverly, you’re not a chore, you’re—“ Nicole stops, and Waverly can practically see the gears spinning. “You… You want that type of relationship with me?”
Waverly takes a step closer and drops her hands to her sides. “I’ve wanted it since your first night here. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Nicole’s eyes light with delight for the briefest of seconds before switching to a very familiar look of righteousness.
“Waverly Earp, you came in here and ordered me not to leave because you were afraid to tell me what you wanted? What if I had stayed just because you demanded it? Would you ever have really been able to trust my feelings for you?”
“I—“
“I’m not done.” Nicole stands, nearly closing the distance between them, and Waverly feels a rush of affection and attraction. “Do you want a ‘personal relationship’ with me, as you put it?”
Waverly manages a nod.
“Do you promise not to order me around when it comes to life-changing decisions?”
Another nod.
“Okay then,” Nicole says, never once breaking eye contact with Waverly. “Me too. What’s next? Is there some sort of protocol for dating the queen?”
Waverly blinks. “That’s it? Those are your questions? Then, um…” Waverly internally curses as she feels her cheeks turn pink. She’s never quite sure how to handle it when she gets her way after something that could generously be described as a tantrum. “There aren’t any special protocols. I’m basically like a normal person until the part where we start talking about marriage.” She feels her eyes widen as panic rushes through her. “I mean—“
Nicole cuts her off with a quick press of her lips. The kiss lasts a second at most, but it feels like the best Waverly’s ever had.
Nicole fills the silence, her lips so close they brush Waverly’s again twice. “If you weren’t a queen,” she says, “then I would kiss you until you begged me for more. If you were really, really nice, I’d let you have anything you wanted.”
Waverly has to swallow twice before she can speak. “And since I am a queen?”
Nicole’s serious expression finally gives way to a smirk. “Same thing, except it’ll probably be in way fancier rooms than I’d be in otherwise.”
Waverly finds herself again at this and kisses Nicole soundly. They don’t stop kissing, either, not really, not until late the next morning in the queen’s very fancy chambers.
Waverly Earp isn’t really supposed to be queen. And yet, she is, a beloved one at that, surrounded by family she once lost and family she’s made, and just a year after that first kiss, she’s beloved by none more than by her brand new wife.