Chapter Text
"Just keep your chin up, kid. He was proud of you," Clint advised the young girl beside him, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Tensions were high; it wasn't often a knight died in service these days, and some in the kingdom suspected more nefarious causes than the skirmish touted as the cause of death. "He loved you, Kate."
Kate just nodded, eyes glazed over as she walked aside Clint down the ornate halls of the palace. She tugged at the fabric of her formal dress, hot and scratchy on her neck. She would much rather be in knight's armor like Clint proudly donned, every piece golden to represent years of service, but alas, she was only fourteen and had not yet begun training. She was not yet a knight. But one day, she vowed, she would be.
"Here we are," Clint said, stopping before the doors of the palace's chapel. "Now listen, kid. I'll be honest with you, this won't be fun. People you don't know will be patting you on the back, telling you how close they were with your dad."
"Good pep talk," Kate said, raising an eyebrow. She turned to enter the chapel, but Clint stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, eyes more sincere than Kate had ever seen them.
"All I'm saying is... I'm sorry. This isn't fair. And..." he removed his hand, placing it back on his sword hilt. "I'm here for you."
"Thanks, old man."
The two entered the already crowded chapel, rows filled with knights and lesser nobles. Kate held out hope the King and Queen or at least the Princesses would show, but that was a tall ask for the funeral of one knight. Kate made her rounds, greeting soldiers and guards, then found a seat at the back of the chapel, not wanting any more attention. A friend of her father's, a captain of the guard, began his speech on life and loss, and Kate almost wanted to drift off as the man's speech felt like it spanned hours. Her eyes were just falling softly shut when she felt a presence sneak in beside her.
"Sleeping at a funeral, Kate Bishop..."
Without opening her eyes, Kate knew who the voice belonged to. She smiled despite herself, whispering, "skipping your duties, are we, Princess?"
"My duties to my country, yes," the girl slung an arm around Kate's shoulders. "My duty to my best friend? Not a chance."
Princess Yelena's presence was comforting, and Kate sat up a little straighter as the funeral concluded. She took Clint's advice, held her head high as she filed out of the chapel, Yelena's arm through hers. As an orphan in this world of volatile kings and deceptive men, she could not appear weak. She would survive this cold world, and with a princess at her side, the task was not as daunting. Friends in high places were more valuable than heaps of gold.
"Thank you for coming," Kate said as the pair reached Yelena's quarters. "I know it probably wasn't easy to get out of whatever meeting you had."
Yelena leaned against her doorframe, one hand laced in Kate's. "It was worth it."
Kate was unusually quiet as her carriage wobbled through the cobbled streets of Aram, the kingdom's capital. The city looked exactly how she left it so many years ago, when Clint offered her a position on the Rangers and she accepted without a second thought. After her father's death, she felt the capital had little else to offer her, so with no prospects, she began her knight training in the Plains with her mentor.
"It's strange being back, isn't it?" Clint asked across from her, his golden armor gleaming in the little sunlight that beamed through the carriage window. "Six years..."
"It's odd seeing buildings taller than one story," Kate smiled. "And so many people in one place."
"Yeah, the country life had us spoiled, huh? No people, no drama, just us and nature."
"Castle life wasn't so bad. It's just terribly sad to be returning in these circumstances..."
Clint nodded solemnly. "God rest the King."
"Long live the Queen."
The carriage stuttered to a halt as traffic thickened near the palace, throngs of commoners crowding the paths. Aram was frenzied at the sudden death of King Alexei, and even more so by the fact that no reason was given by the palace heralds or doctors. Common folk speculated wildly, gossip filling Kate's ears as she hopped out of the carriage, adjusting her silver chest plate as she landed. Clint's authoritative aura and crest of the Rangers, a black hawk on his purple cape, was enough to clear a path for the two through the throngs of distraught commoners, though the on foot journey felt too time consuming to Kate; what a horrible look it would be for her to be tardy to the King's funeral on her first day back in courtly life.
"Clint," Kate called, rapidly tapping her mentor's shoulder. "Can you even see the palace?"
"Not yet," he admitted. "But I know we're close."
"You think we'll be there in time?"
"Patience, my young apprentice. Worrying about our arrival will not make our journey any faster."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Clint cracked a small smile at the young woman. "I know you're nervous. It's alright."
"Me? Nervous? No, not anymore."
"You haven't seen a certain royal in six years, I would be nervous too."
Kate had to admit the princess was on her mind. She felt terribly about leaving Yelena in Aram so long ago, but it was the right call, and surely Yelena understood that. Kate almost doubted that the princess missed her at all- the blonde had legions of friends and admirers, children of other nobles to go to balls and learn eighty languages with, or whatever nobles did. Yelena's world was always so strange to Kate. As the daughter of a knight, even a high ranking one, Kate Bishop was nowhere near noble, much less royal, though somehow Yelena never cared.
"She'll be happy to see you, I promise," Clint said as the two reached the front gates of the palace, which were readily opened for the high ranking knight and his apprentice. "You remember where the chapel is, yes?"
"How could I forget?"
"Then let's make haste and pray we aren't too late."
The two crept toward the chapel, and deflated upon hearing a priest already speaking. Luckily, though, the door was open, and the pair could slip in relatively unnoticed, and take their seats in the back row.
It was surreal to Kate, being back in the chapel. The wooden pew still cold underneath her, the stained glass windows still filtering in prismatic light across the closed casket at the front of the large room, the people mostly the same. She spotted several soldiers and knights who had been at her own father's funeral, saw the armorer and the blacksmith, the apothecary and the bard. It almost felt like six years had not passed since this palace was her home, but merely days.
And then Kate spotted her, and suddenly she felt like she had missed decades. Yelena sat at the front of the chapel in between her sister and her mother, the Queen. The Queen's Guard formed a staunch barricade around the family, but Kate still got a good look at the blonde. She was much more regal now, even at a glance. Composed, elegant, all the radiance of a royal, a far cry from the stubborn teenager Kate once knew so well. Maybe too much had changed.
Kate had changed too, though. Six years of living in the Plains hardened her, though the commune with nature softened her soul. The death of her father could have so easily turned her heart to stone, but with Clint's firm but gentle guidance, she felt that maybe, just maybe, she could be half the knight her father was.
Still staring at Yelena, Kate glanced mortifyingly away when the blonde made eye contact. The princess never broke her gaze away, examining the brunette with those calculating hazel eyes. She scanned over Kate's silver armor, the mark of a knight in training, her one-shoulder purple cape with a Ranger's sigil. The black hawk was enough to turn Yelena's eyes, though Kate could not read her expression.
Eventually, the funeral ended with the release of a few white doves out of a window, and Kate watched the birds fly free as the rest of the congregation filed out.
"You birdwatch in the Rangers, Kate Bishop?"
Kate spun around, stunned. There she stood. As short and as beautiful as Kate remembered. If this was not a funeral, Kate would have smiled. "Yelena, I'm so sorry for your-"
"It's your highness," the blonde corrected, lowering her voice. "And don't be sorry for my loss. We're better off without that man."
With that, Yelena stalked out of the chapel on the heels of her sister, leaving Kate speechless. She glanced back up at the window, though the birds were far out of sight by now.