Who: Fiona Killick & Princess Brianne, guest appearance by Hestia Jones What: A proposition and some planning! Where: Fistia Flat, The Leaky Cauldron Attic When: Tuesday late afternoon/early evening Status: Complete Rating: Low
Get a grip, Avery. She’d been repeating the line in her head every few minutes, since they’d left the castle gates. It wasn’t as if she were going to be showing up out of the blue - she was working. Sort of. Fundraising was one of the few pursuits she was allowed through which she could feel as though she were contributing to something, after all. This particular fundraiser just happened to be set in the workplace of the most fascinating person she’d ever met, and was very much a ruse for running into said person, even though she planned on it being a beneficial event.
Brianne shifted in her seat as the car came to a stop, eyes moving from the window to the rear view as she met the gaze of the driver. “We’ve arrived, Princess. If you’ll exit the car to your right to avoid the street?” He requested, and she complied with a repressed eye roll, following the other guard that had traveled with them as well under the wrought iron sign and into the pub, notebook in hand.
Bri nodded to the guards, and they stepped back, giving her her space - their presence may have been necessary for her safety, but they seemed threatening when following her around, and that wasn’t her intention. Glancing about, movement towards the bar caught her eye, and her breath caught when her gaze settled on the girl behind the counter. It may have been dim that night at the Cloak, and Fiona may have been dressed differently, but Bri would have known that face anywhere. She bit her lip, clearing her throat quietly to alert the girl to her presence.
*
In a completely unsurprising and totally expected outcome of the weekday’s regular events--Fiona Killick was tired. As per usual, she’d woken before dawn and got to work helping her mother turnover the inn rooms and serving breakfast to those staying, reviewed inventory with the kitchen staff and made sure they were well-stocked for both lunch and dinner, finished up dishwashing that had spilt over from the night before, and cleaned the pub top to bottom. She managed to polish the silverware before they opened, and she served the lunch rush. It was in the regular lull between lunch and dinner--when the pub was uncharacteristically quiet and all but empty that Fiona stood behind the bar, drying the freshly washed pint glasses with a dish towel by hand--the door chime alerted her to new customers arriving… at an odd hour.
“Dinner won’t be served for another hour, mates,” she mumbled out to whoever popped in, not bothering to look up until someone cleared their throat. Lifting her focus from the pint glass in hand to flicker toward the source--she finally spotted the girl she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since she’d completely bewitched her at the Cloak. The princess. Here. In her pub. Fi’s breath caught and she swallowed hard, eyes widening as the glass slipped from her fingers, shattering at her feet, the noise wrenching her back to herself. “Shite,” she hissed, pulling her wand and muttering a shaky “Reparo.” When she looked up again, she noticed the intimidating looking blokes waiting by the pub’s entrance on either side of the door, obviously escorting Princess Brianne. Damian’s words suddenly returned to her. Maybe she was in trouble.
She couldn’t hide behind the bar. Even if they were planning on taking her into… royal custody, or whatever… she held her head high, slowly stepping around to the other side of the bar, though stopping a safe distance away with her fingers twined anxiously in front of her. It was then that she realised, noting closer up how beautiful and perfectly put together the princess stood, how much of a bloody mess she looked in comparison. Her hair hung dry and unstyled over her shoulders, she barely wore any makeup, her dress--which could’ve been better described as a ratty old frock--bore discolored patches from several work-related tears, and her low-heeled ankle boots faded and nearly worn through to the sole. She was a far cry from her confident, rockstar stage persona, and her cheeks burned with shame.
Still, Fiona remembered her place. How could she not, now? She had never curtsied before, but she’d seen it enough in films that she grabbed a fistful of her skirt’s fabric and awkwardly dipped into a surprisingly semi-graceful bow, lowering her head. “Can I help you?” she asked in a soft voice when she straightened up, eyes locking on Princess Brianne’s fully. “...your highness?”
*
Seeing the glass fall from Fiona’s hands was the only thing that kept her from jumping when it shattered. Her expression changed from hesitant concentration to concern, which left only once the other girl stood and moved out from behind the counter. Brianne’s eyes never left her face, watching her reactions, the gears turning in her head plain in the expression on her face. Having caught the glance towards the guards, Bri was half-tempted to send them back outside - the pub was quiet, empty even. Unless the bloody Empress herself waltzed through the door, her Royal head was as safe as could be.. She looked to them, nodding towards the door, and watched as they exited. They would take up station right outside, within the wards that she had been told hid this place from Muggle eyes.
Once they’d left, Brianne returned her attention to Fiona. The blush that coloured the girl’s cheeks made her heart clench, and her hands subtly tightened their grip on the notebook so that she wouldn’t reach out for her. She couldn’t, she knew - there were so many rules, and she was in public, without the cover of a crowd or club lighting, or the privacy of a secluded booth. Brianne glanced down to collect her thoughts, attempting to focus on the task at hand. Eyes lifting before the other girl had risen, she met Fiona’s gaze with a small smile. “Hello, Fiona.”
She wished she could read her mind, figure out what she was thinking. She didn’t seem to be upset, not yet. More shocked that the Princess who had surprised her was standing in front of her, in this place. Which wasn’t a bad sign, but it also wasn’t the one Bri was looking for. Glancing down again, she thumbed at the corner of her notebook, suddenly unsure of what to say. What could she say? ‘I think you’re gorgeous, sorry I tricked you, hope you don’t hate me forever’? Get a grip… Bri brought her eyes back up again, uncertainty in her expression. “I spoke with your parents a few days ago - I was hoping to be able to hold a fundraiser here in a week or two, for the Air Force. They told me I should speak with you directly, since you’re here for the day-to-day of the pub.” Best to stick to business, until she could gauge Fiona’s emotions, and so she didn’t babble away like an idiot.
*
Fiona’s shoulders sunk a noticeable inch, some of the tension fleeing her body as soon as the guards left the pub. As soon as Princess Brianne ordered them to leave with nothing more than a look and a head nod. It was almost scary, how much power she held--Fi didn’t fully realize the magnitude until that moment. A fresh wave of nerves twisted in her stomach… until the royal redhead looked back to her and smiled. It was the same smile from the other night, the one that completely melted away her barbed defenses and put her at ease. And when she greeted her by name and shared why she’d come to the Leaky, it took another moment for Fi to find her voice.
Her eyes widened as she processed that information. “You spoke with my--parents, your highness?” She bit her lip for a moment. “Sorry, they hadn’t mentioned…” But that wasn’t the princess’ problem, was it? Definitely something she’d be taking up with her mum and dad later, though. She cut herself off and changed trains as the latter half of that sunk in. The request. “You--you want to hold a royal fundraiser? Here?” She eyed the princess skeptically, a nervous laugh bubbling out. “Seriously?” Dingy pub didn’t exactly mesh with official palace business, but a part of Fi--a very small part she’d hoped to lock away forever--sparked with hope that this wasn’t exactly a coincidence. She inwardly chastised herself the instant that thought entered her consciousness.
*
Seeing her posture relax once the guards had made their exit confirmed to Brianne that the decision to remove them was the correct one - she didn’t want Fiona uncomfortable in her own space. She was the intruder here, and if she could make that any easier, it would be done to the best of her ability. The confusion that the girl exhibited gave Brianne pause - surely Mr. and Mrs. Killick had mentioned something to their daughter… ah, but perhaps not. “I had hoped they would have mentioned my plan to stop by this afternoon, but they did seem fairly confident in your ability to handle the planning with me. Perhaps they wanted it to be a surprise?” Smile widening, she observed the the incredulousness she was presented with next in amusement, laughing lightly. “I don’t mean for it to be a stuffy function for the nobility - I hope for it to be a fun evening for our soldiers, and their families. And in turn, an opportunity for the community to contribute to the war effort.”
Here was where she’d come to a loss. Trying to figure out what kind of event could be held in the pub, that would be beneficial, had been her entire argument in making the case to her mother. She’d been lucky - her plea to be allowed to discuss it with the owners themselves, to include them and look for their input, had been one of the main selling points that had gotten her permission to come here in the first place. “You’ll have to forgive me, my grasp on Muggle terminology isn’t the best, but I’ve heard of something called a ‘pub sing’ that seemed like a good idea. Or perhaps a trivia night?” It was her turn to blush, as she felt she was floundering in an attempt to explain her poorly disguised attempt to see this girl again. Bri smiled once more. “You see why I might need your help with it. I have the ability and the drive to make something happen, but not the creativity it calls for. That is, hopefully, where you come in.”
*
Her brow shot up at the princess' suggestions. "Oh, there's no singing here," Fiona said with a sudden flash of sadness in her eyes, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she grimaced, shaking her head and amending herself. "Sorry, your highness. What I mean is--we--it's not a thing that's been done, really? Here. I mean, it's not to say we can't... it'd probably go over better than pub trivia, considering our regular crowds, but..." She trailed off, fingers once again wringing in front of her as she suddenly grew very aware of the two regular patrons sitting at the bar and glancing at them over their shoulders.
"Could we--talk somewhere else? The office…" She wrinkled her nose as realisation set in. "...is full of boxes I haven't taken downstairs yet. Um…" Wracking her brain, she blinked and pointed up. "My room? My flat," she hastily corrected with a wince. "--it's a few flights up, we could…" Shite. Her ears burned. "It's quiet is all. Would that be all right with you and your, um…" She nodded toward the door. "Your totally chill looking and not at all intimidating security detail?"
*
Fiona’s expression, the upset that crossed her face when she’d said there wasn’t any singing done in the pub, caused a frown to replace Brianne’s prior smile. Nodding at the amendment, she followed the glance given to the two patrons at the bar, and could have kicked herself for being so pushy. Bri fidgeted with her notebook, combing through her brain for other ideas, anything that might have been relevant to the fundraiser she was, honestly, trying to set up. The phrase ‘My room’ pulled her attention from her thoughts and back to the present, and she knew it was only her years of court experience keeping her jaw from hitting the floor.
This girl wanted to take her to her room? Flat, she reminded herself, smiling gently through sudden nervousness. “That would be fine; the intimidating security detail will stay outside until I’m ready to leave, and they know not to bother anyone that doesn’t give them cause.” Bri glanced to the stairs, eyes following their path upwards - a path that would shortly be helping her to know more about this intriguing woman. Homes were telling, after all. Her eyes met Fiona’s again, and she raised a brow slightly, her expression one of polite anticipation. “By all means, lead the way.”
*
As soon as Fi offered her flat for their meeting, she immediately regretted it. What if the princess was disgusted? Not that their flat wasn't clean--it was totally clean! But it was tiny. Part of her also thought it might be too forward, but Fi had a pretty clear idea that she'd never had any actual chance with the princess once she learned who she was. So at least she didn't have to worry about that. First, though… she took a few steps toward the kitchen. "Oi, Rupert!" she called, and the man called back.
"Yeah, Fi?"
"Cover the front for a while, would you. I've got a--" She blinked at the princess, a nervous smile pulling at her lips. "--a meeting."
"Yeah, all right."
"This way," Fi said, waving her along toward the spiral staircase that led up to the second floor hallway. "Sorry about all the stairs," she said over her shoulder, leading Bri down the main inn floor corridor and up another flight of stairs, and then another. Eventually, they reached a door where Fi pulled her wand and tapped the knob. It opened at its touch, and Fi led her inside.
Fiona and Hestia's flat, while tiny, emanated warmth and coziness. The front door led them into their main sitting area, which was mostly clutter-free save for one of Fi's jumpers hanging over the arm of the couch and a few scattered sheets of parchment on the coffee table with scribbled song lyrics in Fi's hand (and some ink splotches when she let herself think too hard about a couplet). The fireplace mantle held frames full of photographs of Fi and Hestia's friends and family, and a muggle record player sat in the corner of the room. The bookshelf beside it held both books and records, magical and muggle--an assortment Fi and Hestia had always been proud of. Fi's guitars stood beside the book and record shelf, one electric and one acoustic.
"Feel free to have a seat, or--make yourself comfortable however you want," Fiona said, motioning to the couch. "Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee? Some preemptive apologies for when I inevitably fuck up by not doing something I ought to be doing 'cause I've never had a princess in my flat before?" Her shy grin returned as she played with the ends of her hair. After a beat, she wrinkled her nose. "Sorry, your highness. Swearing at a princess is probably one of those things, yeah? Shite." Another wince. "Bad habit."
*
Brianne returned the nervous smile Fiona gave her with one that very nearly mirrored it - had they been alone, it would have. Brianne had been unsettled by this girl, and fascinated by her, since she’d heard her sing those first few notes. The strange part about the whole thing was that Bri hadn’t minded it. Any time prior that anyone had rattled her, Bri’s response had been to remove whatever it was; she wasn’t fond of anyone intruding on her feelings, distracting her. It was new, and a little terrifying, having someone capture so much of her attention in such a sudden way and wanting to let it continue. Or maybe she was far too used to keeping others at arms’ length, at being a player in the game that was being a Royal, at sacrificing her interests for the sake of her position.
The exchange between Fiona and Rupert finished, Bri followed where she was led. Her eyes flitted about from one new sight to the next, and she kept that up for a moment until she remembered she may not necessarily need to memorize everything. If all went well, maybe she’d be able to spend time here again… and her stomach knotted as she realized where her thinking was taking her. All she could hope for, at best, was… what? A distant acquaintance? Fiona apologizing for the steps gave her a chance to push back her pessimism, and she smiled. “It’s alright,” and, truthfully, it was fine. The palace had more than its fair share of staircases - as had Hogwarts. At least these had the benefit of being stationary.
Bri let her eyes wander freely once inside the flat, smiling as she took in as much detail as she could. She stopped near the couch, wanting very much to let her curiosity get the better of her, but she turned her attention to Fiona instead when she started speaking, and was grinning by the time she’d finished - her shyness and the playing with her hair was incredibly endearing, and her words earned a light laugh. “You don’t have to apologise for that, I’m sure I’ve heard worse from my brother. I...,” she paused, frowning a moment as a thought crossed her mind before she met Fiona’s eyes again. “I don’t want you to spend time in your own home worrying about what to say, or what you should or shouldn’t do.” Bri bit her lip, spurred on by the guilt she’d felt for the ending of Friday evening. “I did come here because of this fundraiser, but I had hoped more just to see you.”
She fought not to lower her eyes, vulnerability plain on her face, the words having left her lips before she could stop herself. But she didn’t want to spend more time misleading this girl - couldn’t.
*
Fi's stomach twisted as the princess eyed their sitting room (and likely what she could see of the joint kitchen area). Merlin, it felt like she was ripping off a designer plaster over a gaping, ugly wound. She was certain she'd never felt so exposed, so… out of her depth, so mismatched. Surely the princess was used to bathrooms larger than their entire space, with golden arches lining the entryways and crystal chandeliers and all that royal rot.
Her words, though… the honesty cut right through Fi's thoughts and she simply stared at the other young woman, disbelief flashing in her grey-blue irises. Her gut reaction was to release the self-deprecating laugh bubbling in her throat, motion down to her pathetic excuse for a dress and say 'Well, sorry to shatter the illusion'. Instead, after registering the vulnerability in Princess Brianne's eyes, she swallowed hard. "My mum's a muggleborn," she confessed, as though it was some deep, dark secret that would cause the Princess to flinch with disdain. In a way, maybe, she was testing those boundaries. "I was raised to fear your family, Princess. But you don't frighten me." A fresh flush rose in her cheeks, another soft laugh echoing on her exhale. "I mean, you do--just, not in the way I ever would've expected."
Fiona let her own admission hang in the air between them for a few beats before taking a few steps backwards toward her small kitchen. "I'm--I'll put the kettle on and fetch us some tea. I really need some caffeine if you're gonna make me get all creative with planning stuff right now." She flashed a teasing smile before ducking 'round the open archway and filling the kettle with water over the stove. While she waited for it to boil, she leaned back against the ice box and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a few steadying deep breaths. Get your shite together, Killick.
*
What on earth did her mother’s… Ah, she saw what Fiona was getting at. Or, at least, it came off as a kind of test. It had been years since the mention of someone’s blood purity or lack thereof had meant anything to Brianne. Tutoring as she had done her last three years in school, and spending time volunteering since she’d graduated had… not cured her of any ‘us versus them’ thinking, but had desensitized her to caring about the subject as a whole. She didn’t think it had ever meant as much to her as it did to some, especially some of her family members. But blood-status had ceased to matter as a judgement of someone’s character to her. The way she saw it, wouldn’t it be better for those with any magical blood at all to be in their world, rather than without it and risking possible exposure? But that wasn’t the point right now. Another small smile played over her features. “From the little correspondence I’ve had with her, and from what little I know of you and the kindness you’ve both shown me, she must be a lovely woman.”
Bri swallowed as guilt swept through her at the mention of fearing her family. This was something she was partially aware of - she would have been lying if she said that sometimes it was true for herself as well. But still, it wasn’t exactly pleasant to hear. Fiona’s admission, the flush and the laugh that followed, had her smiling a little wider. “Hopefully, by the end of this project, I’ll manage to be a little less frightening.” Bri mentally kicked herself - still holding back, because lurking in her mind was the worry that something could go wrong. If she wasn’t careful… Very, very careful. Fiona had ducked into the kitchen before she could respond, but Bri grinned in answer anyway, turning to survey the room once again.
She stepped towards the fireplace, eyes scanning the photos on the mantle, and she lifted a hand to run her index finger over the edge of one of the frames. There were five people in the picture, Fiona included, and all of them had varying degrees of a smile on their faces. The youngest had a grin too big for his face, which made Brianne snicker quietly to herself. A fierce looking young woman smirked at her from the photograph, and a taller boy smiled with his arm slung around the shoulders of the youngest one. Fiona was there, staring down the photographer with both amusement and exasperation playing on her face. And there was a bearded boy, arm possessively curled around Fiona’s waist, staring fiercely with just a hint of a curl to his lip. Brianne raised a brow at this one, keeping her eyes on the picture as she turned her face towards the kitchen as she called out. “Your friends here in this picture, they’re your bandmates aren’t they?” Eyes still staring down the tattooed bloke next to Fiona, Bri bit her lip, unable to keep a slight disappointment from working its way into her mind and expression. The memory of having her own arm wrapped around the girl’s waist as they’d danced followed it, and she removed her finger from the frame, returning her hand to curl around the edge of her notebook.
So what if Fiona was… involved with someone? Brianne had no claim on her, could have none… but she couldn’t deny that some part of her stung with the realization. She’d allowed some small part of herself to daydream, to let her mind run wild after their meeting. At least she had a small amount of time, to know this girl. She’d enjoy it while she could, and be happy for it.
*
A lovely woman. Her mother, a muggleborn, oppressed by the Averys and every ruling family before them. She knew she shouldn't believe it so easily. She knew Damian would say she was too trusting, too naive. But there was something she couldn't ignore about Princess Brianne. More than her words, it was her eyes--so genuine, so honest. Clearly she wasn't all bad. She couldn't be. Part of her couldn't help but wonder how much interaction she'd had with her uncle's subjects, especially the lower class.
Fi peeked over her shoulder from the stove as the princess asked her question, and she couldn't help but smile fondly. That photograph brought back good memories--most band-related memories did. "They are," she called back. "Hestia's our bassist and my best mate--she shares this flat with me but she's working right now. Theo's on keys--the kid with the curly hair, Ollie's next to him--our lead guitarist. The tall one with the tattoos is Damian, drummer and backup vocals." Damian, who'd warned her about this situation already and she hadn't believed him. Damian, her on-again, off-again boyfriend… whose status she was conveniently unsure of at the moment. Guilt surged and she immediately squashed it. There's nothing to feel guilty for. Nothing's happening, nothing can ever happen.
She returned to the sitting room carrying a wooden tray stocked with of two ceramic mugs with hot water, a container of assorted teas, a small bit of milk and sugar and honey, and she set it on the coffee table next to her stack of parchment. Did princesses even fix their own tea, or…?
Fiona settled herself down on one side of the loveseat, smoothing her skirt over her knees and crossing her legs at the ankle. "So this fundraiser," she started, reaching out to fix up her tea how she liked it. Best to busy herself with her hands, especially because of the added benefit of reducing the chance that she'd openly stare. "It certainly sounds like a worthwhile cause, your highness. Sorry for my initial, um--shock. But I'm happy to help you however I can." She did genuinely want to help, even though she knew she couldn't really say no to a royal if she wanted to. "My brothers are serving in the military," she said, biting her lip and daring another glance up at her. Had she already known this about her, or was it new information? "You're thinking you'd like to run more of a pub singalong, or an open mic night situation? Or both?"
*
Hestia - that had been the best mate Fiona had mentioned, shortly before they’d been so rudely interrupted. Bri smiled at the sight of the other girl in the photo, and let her eyes float to the others as they were listed. She did note that the last mentioned, Damian, received no more description than than the others. The selfish part of her than had been disappointed when she’d first noticed him in the picture was appeased, but that was all she allowed of the feeling - anything else seemed too much to even entertain.
Bri turned when Fiona reentered the room, pushing her prior line of thought away with a smile at the set-up Fiona had managed. “Thank you, that’s lovely.” She took a seat opposite the girl, mirroring the way she was seated and resting her notebook on her knees to open it. The tea sounded wonderful, but her mother’s expectation of her to carry off this event as well as she would one planned at the palace was weighing on her mind. And since Fiona had busied herself fixing a cup, it gave her a chance to stare through her lashes and observe. Tea was highly important to some, and Bri knew she was particular about it herself - two sugars, just a small amount of cream, light and sweet. From what she saw, the girl kept to milk and honey, and Bri made sure that bit of information was pressed into her memory.
Bri lifted her head as Fiona continued speaking, moving to prepare her own cup once she had finished and smiling when the girl said she did want to help. “I’m so happy to hear that. I think we’ll make a great team, you know.” She flashed a grin before taking a small sip of her tea, and raising her brows in surprise at the admission of having family in the military. “Are they? Which branch?” She was genuinely interested, welcoming of any information she could gather, though she sincerely hoped she hadn’t met either of these brothers and not known it - she’d feel terrible, if she had. Bri adopted a thoughtful expression for a moment after Fiona made her suggestions, taking another sip of her tea before speaking herself. “Well, I can promise enthusiasm for any kind of musical endeavour. The second one, though, may suit our purposes better.” Setting her mug down, Bri retrieved her quill from the spine of her notebook to jot down the decision. “Now, we don’t want to take away from your business. My aim was a bit of fun for the soldiers and their families, while also raising money for them. This is, honestly, my first attempt at something like this. Our charity events tend to be more centered around the nobility.” At this, Bri was slightly embarrassed, though she found small comfort in the knowledge that it was something new for both of them.
*
Fi also took note of how the princess fixed her tea, out of curiosity more than anything. She couldn't help but release a small chuckle at her assertion that they'd make a great team. "You might not want to say that too soon, princess," Fiona said with a sheepish grin behind her own tea mug. "My staff would tell you I'm a pain in the arse. Not very pleasant or positive. Demanding. Stubborn as hell, too." She blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. "My brothers would say the same. My older brother, Liam, is a lieutenant in the navy. Kieran's younger than me--he's an air force cadet."
She didn't bother with a notebook or anything, but she couldn't help but find the princess' eager notetaking adorable. Maybe they would make a decent team, after all. "Well," she started. "There are a few things we could incorporate. It might be a good idea to serve a whatever-course meal for a flat rate--slightly upcharged for extra, donatable profit, with the promise of several acoustic acts for entertainment throughout the meal. We could book some acts in advance and scatter some open slots for any brave sods who get inspired--or load up on liquid courage--to jump in during the event. It'll add an element of surprise." She shrugged. "We can donate a percentage of themed drink specials as well. And if you think we'll get a decent showing of nobility…" The not-as-stuffy sort, hopefully, but she didn't want to insult the princess. "Maybe we can get some items donated for a silent auction? Flying themed, even, if it's for the air force. Quidditch match tickets, autographed kits, state-of-the-art or antique broomsticks… you'd probably have to handle that bit, as I'm pretty sure if a lowly pub wench like me were to owl the Harpies or the Falcons asking for free shite for auction they'd laugh and never reply. That's a Princess Perk, yeah? Everyone's legally obligated to owl you back?" She grinned over at her before another idea struck, eyes going wide as that grin twisted into a somewhat scheming smirk. "Or we could auction off the Air Force members themselves! Volunteer basis, of course. Bid on a date with a hot aerial soldier. That might get some arses in the seats, yeah?" She bit her lip, setting her tea in her lap once more. "Sorry. That was a lot all at once, wasn't it?"
*
Bri watched Fiona over her mug, amusement dancing in the pale blue of her eyes at the description of her demeanor. “I think your staff, your brothers and I would have to agree to disagree, from what I’ve seen so far. Or was that a politely disguised warning?” She teased, and made a mental note to try and keep an eye out for a Cadet Killick on her next visit to the soldiers. Pausing to fidget with her quill, she tilted her head. “My brother would have joined, I think, if he were able. Apollo has always loved flying. He’s petitioned our parents to allow him to play Quidditch professionally since he graduated, but…” Another pause, and she shrugged a shoulder, smiling sadly. “Of course, he isn’t allowed.”
Bri jotted down bulleted items in shorthand - it irked her how rusty she was at it, and another mental note was made to get back into the habit that had kept her so efficient during her school years. She was grateful for the charm Apollo had placed on the quill that kept it inked without her having to deal with the mess of a well. She grinned at the term ‘Princess Perk’, laughing lightly. “I wouldn’t say anyone is legally obligated to reply… Socially? Of course - it would be rude of them not to acknowledge that I’d sent them any form of correspondence. But items like that, businesses or teams aren’t ever ordered to provide.” She was doing just fine, listening and making small noises of agreement as she took her notes, until Fiona mentioned auctioning off the soldiers themselves. Brianne’s eyebrows shot up, and a flush colored her cheeks. “That’s - is that something that’s actually done?” She could practically see the look of disapproval on her mother’s face, and the resulting laugh was definitely outside of royal politeness. Bri shook with it for a moment before she was able to calm herself, and bit her lip as she looked back to Fiona, smile still fighting for rule of her face. “I apologise, that was rude of me. I’ve never - that kind of… event, isn’t anything I’ve ever witnessed.” She blushed again, this time at the revelation of her own sheltering. Twenty-four, and painfully inexperienced, it was something she kept very quiet.
*
Another soft laugh bubbled up and Fiona shrugged innocently. “Well, highness, you can’t say I didn’t warn you…” At the news of her brother--Prince Apollo, she reminded herself--Fi’s face fell. “That’s shite. I mean, it’s not like he’s enlisting. Quidditch is dangerous but not life-threatening, and there are precautions he can take to be safer in the skies, yeah?” She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, that’s--it’s not my place to say that, is it?” Definitely not.
At Princess Brianne’s reaction to her suggestion of the auction, Fi’s brow shot up and she offered an apologetic grin. “Oh, that’s not--it’s not, like, any sort of sexual thing. Not intentionally, anyway. It’s just a date--the person being auctioned can decide if it’s tea or an afternoon fly or a dinner or something more formal, but it’s all completely voluntary, and--we don’t have to do that part. It was only a suggestion.” A dumb one, clearly, judging by how much redness tinged the princess’ cheeks. Fi couldn’t help but felt her pulse skip a beat and she took a steadying breath, her grip tightening on her warmed mug.
*
Bri smiled, but it faltered as Fiona continued. She glanced down, biting her lip lightly in thought before answering, but she kept her eyes on the coffee table. “Of course there are precautions that could be taken. But we can’t often act in terms of what we would like to do… we do what we have to, what is best for the Crown and for the kingdom first. Our wants, our wishes, are always placed second, and not often met.” Her expression, light and amused before, had returned to the politeness she’d worn when she’d first entered the pub. Because speaking of what she had, brought to the forefront of her mind what she’d been trying to keep away throughout this meeting. She wasn’t free, not that she ever had been, but the way this girl had made her feel… she sorely wished she was. Lifting her eyes to meet Fiona’s when she apologised, the smile returned. “I can agree with it being… disagreeable.” She smirked at this. “My brother is always happiest when he’s in the air, and had he any say in the matter, flying is where he would want his career to be spent.”
Bri shook her head. “Oh, no, it could be fun if that’s all it is. I just… Imagining the look on my mother’s face, if I were to suggest it,” She paused, thoughtful for a moment. If she were able to explain it in a favourable manner, perhaps… Bri looked back to Fiona, mischief playing in her smile. “I’ll keep it in mind - it’s worth mentioning just for her reaction, to tell you the truth.”
*
“And what about you, princess? What would you be doing if--if you didn’t have to think of the crown first... and could do what you wish?” Fiona blurted before she could stop herself. She couldn’t help it--she desperately, genuinely wanted to know as much as she could about the girl who’d pretty much constantly been on her mind since the fateful night they'd met. It was only after a beat that she realized it was an intrusive question, and she wrinkled her nose in apology yet again, shaking her head. “Sorry, that’s--pretty damn personal, I shouldn’t have asked that.”
That mischievous smile playing on Brianne’s lips made Fiona relax once again and she smirked back, laughing. “Well in that case, you should tell her it’s your idea and not mine. It’d be great if she didn’t have a reason to stop you from coming back here.” Fi knew that was bold of her to say, but she kept her eyes on the princess anyway. What was she doing, besides playing with fire? On the other hand, she hadn’t enjoyed talking with someone this way in… well, in a long time, if ever. Their playful banter. It was fun and exciting, and it jolted her out of that depressing day-to-day she’d been in for what felt like ages.
*
“What would I…” Bri was first slightly thrown off by the question. Second, she was shocked by the first thought that came to her mind, one she said aloud in little more than a whisper, as if she was afraid someone would hear her who shouldn’t and with just as much surprise at the pull to be honest. “Go somewhere - anywhere but London. Somewhere absolutely no one knew who I was. Work for some kind of non-profit organisation, perhaps… “ It was an idea that she rarely allowed herself to entertain, so she knew her answer was vague. It was, honestly, rather painful to think about; even if she could, there wasn’t really any knowing if Apollo would want to come with her. Part of her was sure he would - they’d promised, after the terrible mess with Diana, that they wouldn’t be parted if there was anything either of them had to say about it. But the smaller part of her, the part that was just as loyal to their family as she was, disagreed.
Fiona’s laugh had Bri smiling again, and the suggestion brought back her grin. “Oh, no - you’re essential to the planning now - it happens with you or not at all, I’m afraid.” Bri held her gaze, playful, and above all glad that there was some inclination from the girl that she was welcome back - that she was wanted back. “I was convinced you would be very upset with me. For the way I had to leave, the other night,” she paused, worrying her lip again before continuing. “For not telling you who I was, straight away.”
*
Fi nearly pointed out that clearly she’d never stepped foot in Muggle London, because there are plenty of places locally where people would have absolutely no idea who she was. But that felt like an accusation that might step way over the line, so she bit her inner cheek instead, nodding along slowly. “It would be nice to see outside the city,” she said instead, also hoping to one day have the opportunity to travel. She knew that was highly unlikely, with the rigorous work schedule plus the war that closed the boundaries of so many neighboring countries. “Maybe someday, yeah? And, at least you’re getting the chance to do loads of helpful things, even though they’ve got to be filtered through the crown and stuff.”
Another laugh passed Fi’s lips and she held up her hands in defense. “Oi! I haven’t signed anything, have I? Some gilded parchment with your family’s crest stamped on it?” She scrunched her face up in a teasing smile. “Or do we have a verbal agreement? I didn’t even get a handshake…” It was all in jest, of course--she definitely committed to being all in, if for no other reason than she wanted to support the military branch for which one of her brothers served. She felt powerless to help him otherwise. (Of course, there were other reasons, but she was trying very hard to not think on those.) Her breath caught in the next instant, when Princess Brianne brought up that night, and she set her now empty mug of tea on the coffee table beside one of her lyrics sheets, smoothing her patchworked skirt over her knees. “I wasn’t upset with you. Stunned, a bit nervous, and… disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to get to know you. But I understand why you didn’t tell me, Princess. At least... at a basic level, I get it. Maybe not too dissimilar to the reason why I didn’t come right out and tell you I sling ales and wash dishes for a living, yeah? It’s nice having a chance to step outside ourselves, if only for a few minutes.”
*
Bri smiled at the optimism, nodding slightly. “Perhaps. And what would your ‘someday’ be? If you don’t mind my asking,” She offered an out, just in case the girl didn’t want to answer, but she was genuinely curious. “Charity work is fulfilling, I will say that. I learn something new every time I’m able to volunteer anywhere, and not just about the tasks at hand.” Though, for all anyone else knew, her interest in philanthropic pursuits was to be blamed on her mother, and a want to be useful instead of idling away within the palace walls.
Bri laughed at the next few sentences to leave Fiona’s lips, a grin meeting the teasing smile she was given. “You have yet to sign your life away, not to worry.” She kept back her next comment, having thought to say something along the lines of still having the time to convince her to do so, before remembering herself. That would not do… not yet. Watching as the girl set her mug down and smoothed her skirt, Bri’s expression was surprised when Fiona answered her confession, and smiling fondly once she had finished speaking. “It is nice, to have been someone else for a little while. I was very upset with the… gentleman that came by to retrieve me, for doing so the way he did. No doubt he was impatient due to either my brother or my cousin’s antics… Cordelia has a habit of being willful,” this said with a wry but affectionate smile - Cory was never dull, Bri would give her that. “I’m very glad for the chance to get to know you now, after thinking I may never see you again.” That was a heavy statement, but she kept her expression light to lessen the gravity she felt it carried.
*
It always felt dangerous to dream. What was the point? She woke up in the same place every day, performed the same backbreaking tasks around the pub. But if the princess answered, she could, too. "I'd play music… wherever I could. Large and wild venues, small and intimate venues, on rooftops, on cliffs, on beaches…" She offered a tight grin, shrugging. "That's the dream, anyway. Playing for a living. Playing more often. Not sure all my bandmates would make a career out of it if we ever had the option, but I would in a heartbeat." Her eyes flickered appreciatively over at her guitars.
Despite the princess' kindness, there remained a sinking, nagging feeling twisting in her belly that there was more to this arrangement--that she would face the wrath of the crown with consequences for not delivering on what was expected of her. "It's all right. He had a job to do. Precious cargo delivery," Fi managed with another sad sort of smile. Her ears warmed at that other declaration, and she could only manage a nod in agreement. "So should we--set up some sort of--regular meeting time leading up to…" She bit her lip. "When were you planning on holding the fundraiser, princess? Did you have a specific date in mind, or a general timeframe at least?"
*
Listening intently, a slow smile playing on her face at the picture Fiona painted with her words, Bri nodded slightly. “That would suit you very well, I think.” She meant it - from what she’d heard that night, there was no doubt in her mind that music was what called the girl. “What if… That is, do you think your mates would want to be one of the acts, for the fundraiser? It wouldn’t be a stretch to make it happen.” Bri wasn’t sure if she would appreciate the idea or hate it - but surely, the more shows the band played, the more exposure it got them. There was always a chance someone beneficial could be watching in the crowd.
Precious cargo... The feeling those words gave her was sweeter than she wanted to allow. More than she should allow, really - the same nagging thought that had plagued her since Apollo had found out what Fiona’s last name was. And the new one added to it, that she was already attached to the drummer in her band. But there was no harm in getting to know her, was there? Bri nodded at the mention of regular meetings. “Yes, we should. That way, once we have a date for the event finalized, we have a better idea of where things should be, progress wise.” Bri thought a moment, tapping a finger lightly on her notebook. “I think before the summer drills begin would be best, considering the increase in their training and the time that it will take from them. Early to mid June?”
*
Her smile grew even warmer, if possible, at the suggestion of her band playing. "Thank you. That's very kind. Even with any magical enhancements we might be able to make to expand the pub… I don't think it'd be big enough to accommodate a full band. But," she started, shrugging. "I bet some of us might be up for some solo or duet acoustic sets. Theo and Ollie, most likely. Maybe even Damian'll sing something… I'll ask them." She'd be busy working and co-organizing this fundraiser, of course. But that was okay--better to not mix work and pleasure anyway, particularly at a super important crown-sanctioned event, she reasoned.
"Okay, that makes sense. So--every Tuesday, and more if you think we need to meet more often? Are you okay with coming here, or… would you rather meet somewhere else? I bet we could get everything ready to go by early to mid June, for sure." She flashed a grin that was perhaps a bit more confident than she felt, but she'd try her best. Hopefully that would be enough.
*
It had been one of those days. If one more old man told her that "the men are talking", Hestia was going to murder someone and not make it look like an accident. All she wanted as she trudged up the outside stairs to the flat she shared with Fiona at the top of the Leaky was a hot bath, a hot brew, and something fried. What she found when she walked in was something that made her pause comedically in the door. Her jaw dropped, and she almost dropped her bag, but there were bottles of herbs in there she didn't want to destroy with glass.
"There's a princess on our sofa," she said intelligently as she finally closed the door. Hestia grinned cheekily before curtsying. "Would you like a cuppa, highness? I make my own special brew. It's called 'love potion no. 8', but only because I use rose hips."
*
At the telltale sound of their door clicking open, Fi whirled around with wide eyes as Hestia Jones curtseyed. "Hes! Hey!" Yeah, that was way more of an enthusiastic greeting than she usually mustered to greet her flatmate, strained smile tinged with nerves as though she'd been caught doing something illegal. She wasn't! (But why did she feel like she was?) Remembering her manners half a beat later, she looked back to Princess Brianne. "This is Hestia--flatmate, best mate, bassist extraordinaire."
She cast her eyeroll at Hestia a beat later. "The princess had tea. I can host a guest without completely fucking up, you know," she said with a teasing, decompressing laugh. "But we were just, um--" Fi motioned to Brianne's notebook. "Finishing up here. Right, your highness?"
*
“It is your pub, after all. It would be a shame if I intended to host a musically-centered event within it, and neglected the very singer I came here to meet with about it,” she reasoned, smiling. “Please, do ask your bandmates, before we make any decisions about any others.” Bri pushed away the small, merely annoyed thought that the tattooed drummer might be one of those singers. If Fiona liked the bloke well enough to be in a band with him, he couldn’t be all that bad - and there still hadn’t been any inclination that he was anything more than a friend and bandmate to her, currently.
“Tuesdays, then, and more often if needed. I like that. And of course here is fine, but I could -” Bri paused, as the door to the flat opened, and she looked towards the sound. Her eyebrows shot up, and she looked from Hestia to Fiona with a mixture of surprise and amusement. The situation was rather comical, and made even more so by the comments from the two girls. Bri laughed lightly. “I can attest to Fiona being a wonderful and gracious hostess. And I am glad to finally meet the best mate she speaks so highly of,” she kept her smile on her face, in spite of wanting to grin. Bri looked back to Fiona as she questioned her, and nodded. “We were rather sorted, for this visit. Unfortunately,” and she turned her attention to Hestia again. “...I’ll have to leave the tea for my next visit, if Fiona is quite certain she’s alright with me commandeering the pub for my fundraising.” She looked to Fiona again, the ghost of the smirk she wanted to let loose playing in her smile, as she had a feeling there had been a conversation she wasn’t privy to. Closing her notebook, she stood, hesitating as she waited for an answer.
*
Fi's chest tightened as the princess confirmed a standing meeting time, with more if needed. All for a good cause--but at what cost? Her parents had already approved, but sweet Helga, she'd never done anything like this before. There was so much that could go wrong. Shoving those worries aside, she shot to her feet. "Temporary commandeering, yeah. I don't think you want the Leaky long-term, highness. Way more trouble than it's worth." Well, that last bit was rather loaded, wasn't it? She cleared her throat. "I'll walk you back downstairs. I need to get back to work anyway." Fi brushed by Hestia and gave her arm a steadying squeeze for her own sake because what the fuck just happened. "I'll catch up with you later, Hes, yeah?" With that, she led Princess Brianne back down to her escort guard, her mind still spinning in a thousand different directions.