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The meeting had been extensive; hours had passed before anything close to a concrete plan had been accomplished. But they were ready, and the date was set. Tomorrow evening, the group would rush the castle, backed by their allies and reclaim the throne of Albion.
It almost sounded easy when put that way.
The Princess chuckled softly to herself, leaning her head against the wall once again, trying desperately to get comfortable in what was in reality the damp, cold cellar in which the Bowerstone Resistance called home.
Everyone else had left a while ago, leaving the Princess to ponder her thoughts. Not that she was alone.
Page; the fearless leader of the resistance, fierce in character as well as in battle. Never one to let her guard down, never vulnerable. Except when they were together.
The two had spent a lot of time together in the last few months, whether running reconnaissance missions or helping the people of Bowerstone get by. In that time they had become close, and the Princess had got to see a different side of Page; a softer, gentler side, where she wasn’t afraid to laugh at one of the Princess’s stupid jokes, or how she would blush when complimented on her hair or her clothes for the day. The Princess wished she could find the words to describe how utterly captivating she was.
Perhaps she never would. Not that Page would want to hear it anyway.
“So, are you going anytime soon?”
Page looked up from the document she was carefully examining to throw the question her way, and the Princess laughed.
“Do you want me to?”
That was bold. She was almost surprised at herself, but yet still curious as to Page’s answer. Coincidentally, she didn’t receive one.
Page’s eyes widened slightly at the remark, suddenly appearing rather flustered. She hastily gathered up her documents and shoved them a nearby door, remaining standing as she turned her gaze back to the Princess who had also found herself standing to match the sudden shift in atmosphere.
“What I want doesn’t matter,” she said, gesturing with her hands as if trying to draw attention away from the blush rapidly spreading across her freckles cheeks, “You should go.”
The Princess sighed with a smile, taking a few steps forward and gathering Page’s hands in her own.
“Page,” the name fell out of her mouth as their eyes met, the flickering candlelight dancing in their irises, “where would I go?”.
Page smiled sheepishy, squeezing the Princess’s hands and marvelling at the way her skin felt under hers.
“Home.”
Tomorrow was the day they fought for Albion. Tomorrow was the day they could both perish. Today was the day the Princess gave into what she had wanted from the moment she had set foot in Bowerstone resistance headquarters all those months ago.
“You are home.”
A small, barely registrable gasp escaped Page’s mouth. She was sure she was red as a tomato by this point. She didn’t care. And she definitely couldn’t take her eyes off of the Princess.
“What… what do you mean?”
Page tried to ignore how their faces seemed ever closer every time they spoke. She tried to ignore the pounding of her heartbeat, the lump in her throat.
Tried to ignore how the Princess’s hands had made their way round Page’s waist as Page’s own hands brushed against her collar bone.
“I’m going to be honest with you,” the Princess said with a smile, followed shortly by a burst of nervous laughter, “we could die tomorrow. Or I could die. Or you could die.”
“Way to state the obvious,” Page laughed, voice shaking slightly.
“It is obvious. Which is why I want to tell you this: tomorrow is do or die.” the candle that was illuminating the room was close to dying, leaving the pair flickering in and out of darkness.
The Princess breathed slowly, pausing for a moment to find the right words.
“If we make it through, then I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want to make you mine.”
Page couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had never believed the feeling she had harboured for the Princess were mutual.
“But Page, until then, I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
The candle gave one last flicker before fizzling out completely, and that was all it took. Lips crashed in the dark, hands fumbled and the pair lost themselves to each other for one night of blissful ignorance to the world around them.
The Princess would fight harder than ever if it meant getting to see Page once again. And that was when she realised that she didn’t just have something to fight for; she had someone to fight for.
That someone was Page.
And Page was Home.