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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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A Fallen Queen

Summary:

Summary: In the dark of night, the White Queen falls.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

A Fallen Queen
by Pirate Turner

 

 

        Green eyes flew open in the dark of night, and keen ears listened to the silence. For a long moment, the only sound was that of his own soft breathing, but then he heard it. Her voice. "Damn it, Emma. Get up!" The words and oaths were whispered quietly, but his ears had been trained for years and thereby could easily hear them.

        Without making a single sound, Sean Cassidy rose from his bed and walked out into the hallway. He did not need to flick on the light to see her, and his heart ached at what he saw in her blue eyes when her head snapped up: horror that some one had found her and fear of their reaction. What worried him even more, though, was that the great Emma Frost was lying on the floor! "Em!" he exclaimed worriedly as he rushed to her side. "What's wrong, lass?"

        He reached down to help her up, but she ignored him. She quickly pushed herself up on one knee, but he was not fooled. "Nothing, Sean. I'm fine. Go back to bed." She looked away from him. It was bad enough that he had found her on the floor; she refused to allow him to discover the reason why.

        "I'm nae giin' anywhere until ye're on yer feet again, Em. Now let me help ye." He again reached out for her, but she ignored him as she tried to force her other leg up. Pain shot through her from the cramp, and her jaw set as she refused to allow the reaction it brought from her to be seen.

        "Em, lass, look at me," Sean pleaded softly. When she still refused to, Sean reached out, took her chin in his hand, and gently forced her head to turn back to him. "Look at me," he repeated firmly, and her blue eyes finally drifted up to his handsome face. His heart ached even more when he realized that she was waiting for him to berate her for having fallen. "Em, darlin'," he said, not even realizing the endearing term that slipped so easily from his tongue, "ye din't have tae be afraid."

        "I never said --" she began to say in that icy tone she had perfected to keep people at bay and make lesser people fear her.

        "Em," he said her name with such strength and determination in his voice that she actually hushed. "Ye can't lie tae me, lass. I knae ye tae well, an' there's nae point in liein' tae me o'er somethin' like this any way. Now, please, Em, let me help ye up?" he pleaded softly, his green eyes desperately searching her baby blues as he held out a hand to her.

        A frustrated sigh escaped Emma's soft lips as she reluctantly accepted his offered hand. His fingers entwined in hers, and their hands proved to be a perfect match. "Ready?" She nodded mutely; he pulled her gently but firmly to her feet as she pushed with every bit of her strength and will and finally forced herself to a standing position. "There, see?" he asked. "That 'twas nae so bad."

        She opened her mouth to say something as she pulled her hand from his grasp, but as she put her full weight once more on her feet, she began to fall. For a moment, terror and embarrassment clouded her beautiful face, but then he was there, his strong arms gently catching her and setting her back to her feet. This time, he did not let go as he demanded, his intense concern clear in his voice, "Em, what's wrong?"

        She was so embarrassed that she had no choice but to lower her head, a light pink tingeing her cheekbones. "Cramp," she admitted in a hushed whisper that untrained ears could not have heard. "I've been trying to walk it off, but it's . . . not getting any better . . . obviously . . . but I'll work it out . . . "

        "Correction, lass," Sean spoke as he suddenly scooped her up into his arms. "I'll work it out. What ye need is a massage."

        "Then I'll order Bumpkin to give me one," she protested even as he turned around and began to carry her to his bedroom. "I don't need your help."

        "Em," Sean spoke gently as his eyes met and kept hers, "there's nae shame in askin' fer help or acceptin' offered help."

        "Sean, I . . . "

        "I knae, Em. I knae," he said more softly, "but I like tae think we're more'n jest a team an' a school here. I like tae think we're at least friends, if'n nae a family even."

        Emma smiled softly. "Rather sentimental, are you, Sean?"

        "Perhaps, Em," he replied as he laid her down on his bed and moved to sit beside her, "but there's nae sense in hidin' yer true feelings among friends." He reached out to gently touch her leg, and a jolt of excitement surged through her body. "'Tis this one, aye?" he asked her.

        "Yes," she replied softly.

        "Let me knae when I hit the spot," he told her. His hands reached out and began to gently massage her leg. He began at her ankle and slowly worked his way up. He concentrated on easing her pain and the tightness of her muscles as he fought to keep his mind and especially his senses from dwelling on the feel of her smooth skin underneath her white silk.

        Never once thinking that Sean might be having the same problem, Emma struggled to ignore the nearly overwhelming pleasure that shot through her body at his every touch. When he reached the spot just behind her knee, her pleasure doubled as he began to work her cramp out. A soft moan escaped her lips, and his smile grew. "Hit the spot, I take it?" She nodded and allowed her eyes to drift shut so that he could not see the emotions that shone in them, and his smile grew even more brilliant at how beautiful she was when he actually managed to make her both happy and relaxed.

        He continued to massage her leg until his own hands began to ache. After a while, he reluctantly lifted his hands from her leg and asked her, "There. All better?"

        "Yes," Emma admitted, unable to keep another soft sigh from escaping her lips. "Sean . . . "

        "Aye?" Sean asked as he looked back up at Emma.

        Their eyes met and locked, and both felt themselves falling into the other's deep pools. Their hearts roared as one, and both mouths ached to taste the other's sweet wine. " . . . thank you," Emma barely managed to breathe.

        "Any time, lo -- lass." His smile grew even more brilliant. "Next time ye have a problem, jest ask me."

        "I . . . " She wanted to, but that would be admitting to a weakness. She forced her eyes away from his as she looked away from him. "I'll keep that in mind."

        Sean leaned forward; his hand reached up, gently grasped her chin, and moved her head to where she was once again forced to look at him. His fingers softly brushed the smooth skin of her cheek as he told her, his voice husky with emotion, "Em, I wouldn't think any less o' ye. I knae ye've had a hard life. So've I, though admittedly probably nae as rough as yers. It takes a brave woman nae tae ask fer help, but it takes an even braver an' stronger woman tae ask fer help from her friends when she needs it. I knae ye're both o' those, nae jest one, lass. Ye can trust me."

        She saw the truth in his eyes, and her heart nearly stopped in shock. "I know, Sean," she breathed softly, her lips trembling as he drew his thumb gently across their soft flesh.

        His very being ached to taste of those lips, but he knew better than to even try to. "So ye'll di so?"

        "Yes," she whispered again, and he could feel even the tiniest movement of her lips as she formed the simple word that meant so much.

        "It's late, Em, an' we've got a big day ahead o' us tomorrow wit' the first day back an' everything. Ye should gi tae bed an' get some rest." He forced himself to draw his hand back as he stood. He then turned back and offered her his hand. Her hand slid into his, and she allowed him to help her to her feet. He walked with her to the door before releasing her hand.

        Emma started to walk on out of his bedroom, but then she paused and walked back to him. Reaching him, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. He returned the kiss, and their passion grew though his lips neither parted under hers nor did his tongue dip into her mouth when her lips parted against his. Slowly and reluctantly, her lips lifted from his. Her eyes searched his as she whispered huskily, her soft breath slightly tickling his lips, "Good night, Sean." She then turned and walked away.

        "Good night, Em," he breathed softly as he watched her go before slowly shutting his door. Their heads touched their pillows again at the same time, and both dreamed sweet dreams of the other all throughout the night.

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Pirate Turner.
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