Title: Royal Command
Fandom: Scrapped Princess
Pairing: Pacifica x Shannon
Warnings: implied adoptive-sibling incest. Not beta'd.
Word count: around 1120
For a Springkink X prompt: July 3rd - Scrapped Princess, Pacifica/Shannon: any - "Yes, your highness."
Summary: She never grew out of her crush on him, after all. She just didn't know what to do about it.
AN: The prompt left a lot up to choice, so I had a heck of a time deciding whether to keep it tame, go for the UST, or take it further. This is the OOC-ish result of my waffling. I'm not all that crazy about it, but at least I got it done on time, such as it is. Comments?
Pacifica had always liked telling Shannon what to do, or what she wanted him to do, anyway. Which, being her older brother, he very seldom did. As long as he still thought of her as the bratty but beloved little sister who needed protecting, he resisted her demands with brotherly instinct, because he always knew that, once he gave in, he would spoil her endlessly. He was already her most willing and devoted subject, even if she didn't know it.
When the world hadn't ended after all and she was still alive, and when she started acting a little more like a real princess instead of a little girl after her brother's coronation, Shannon thought he couldn't resist much longer.
And even though she grew out of being a bratty and whiny teenager (for the most part), she had not grown out of her teenage-girl crush on him as he'd expected, a change which he had always anticipated with a mixture of regret and relief. Now that the world was not afraid of her anymore, she had numerous suitors and admirers, an ever growing line of them with Leo always at the forefront, but she hardly seemed to notice them. She was far more concerned with whether Shannon noticed her, either too much or too little.
The problem, he gradually realized, was that Pacifica was old enough to know what she wanted now, but not quite old enough to know how to ask for it. It took him a while to realize that, whenever she screamed and raged at him for looking at her - all those times he accidentally came upon her just out of the bath and barely dressed, or looked up from weeding the garden to see her standing there with legs bare up to the thighs under her very short skirt - she was not so much angry with him for looking at her too much, as for not looking at her the way she wanted him to.
At that point, he stopped pretending that he wasn't.
"You have to tell me what you want, Pacific," he said, finally, one day.
She pouted up at him angrily, her cheeks red. He knew she wanted him to say it first. After all, she'd already told him once. It seemed like a long time ago, already, and he hadn't been able to answer her clearly then, for so many reasons. Not the least of which was because, back then, she'd also told him she wanted him to be the one to kill "the poison that would destroy the world," if that was what the Scrapped Princess really turned out to be. He would have done it for her, if it had come to that, and if that was what she really wanted. But if he'd said back then how he really felt about her, he was afraid he might not be able to.
When Pacifica said it again this time, she didn't whisper it in his ear like the blushing little schoolgirl she wished she could be, but said it plainly, more like the princess she really was. She took his hands in both of hers and looked up at him, her blue eyes clear and bright, and her cheeks so red he felt badly for putting her on the spot and making her say it again, after all.
"I love you, Shannon," she said. "I want you to tell me that you... no, that's not..." She shook her head and bit her lip in frustration, golden corkscrew curls bouncing around her face.
She could still steal the food from his plate and order him to do her chores for her and demand that he make her favorite dish for supper, but she would not command him to say what she wanted to hear. She had grown up enough to want the truth.
"I mean, I want you to tell me if you love me too."
She already knew he loved her as his little sister, as the one he would step in front of a hundred swords to protect. That wasn't what she meant now, and he knew it.
So Shannon said it, this time. Not because she wanted to hear it, not because she was his precious little sister and he wanted to indulge her whims, and not because she was a princess and could demand it. He said it only because it was true.
"I love you too, Pacifica," he answered. His voice was slightly rough with emotion long held in check, and with desire that he finally dared to acknowledge.
Her beautiful, sky blue eyes lit up, but her face grew more serious than ever. She squeezed his hands.
"Then we can be together!" she said.
"If you want it," he said, because even though he did, it was all up to her as far as he was concerned.
Pacifica's brows crashed together and the corners of her mouth turned down, and he knew that in another second she was going to stomp her foot and demand that he say what he wanted. He quickly raised her hands and kissed each knuckle with parted lips. Even at that, her blush deepened and she gasped softly, and her fingers tightened around his.
He knelt in front of show that it was still all up to her, now and always. Even if he was the one to say it.
"Yes, Your Highness," he said. "We can be together."
She stared down at him, blinking slowly, as if she thought she was dreaming, or maybe waking from a long, old dream. Then she raised an eyebrow and gave him a speculative look, as if considering new found possibilities, finally sensing her potential power over him for the first time.
He nodded, confirming her speculation, and - to his own mild surprise - shivering slightly as he realized, finally, how long and how eagerly he'd been waiting for her to awaken to this.
"Just tell me whatever you want me to do, Pacifica." His voice was a strained whisper, almost a plea.
"You'll really do anything I ask, Shannon?" she asked, skeptically, teasingly. She leaned forward, bearing down on him in a way that had only inspired him to dig in his heels and argue with her in the past - and not incidentally, revealing rather more cleavage than he usually let himself observe. This time, though, he didn't hide the way it stopped his breath to look at her, and when he glanced up at her face again, she was flushed and grinning triumphantly.
The anticipation of waiting for her first real order stopped his breath, before he could finally answer her.
"Yes," he said. "Your Highness."
~~ the end ~~