An Ocean of Fire- Supercorp AU

30- A Call to Shields

She received a reprieve in the morning - the monarchs would not meet until mid-afternoon. She took a long, hot shower, allowing the water to run across her tired shoulders and back for far longer than she should have. She considered seeking out Anhani and pressing her for more details, but the questions burning through her were held at bay by a bone-deep weariness and a voice demanding an adjustment period. So instead, she spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon curled up with a book she'd been reading, and allowed it to bring her an escape from her roiling thoughts. The blonde Princess didn't stray far from her all day, and though Lena would have previously found her constant presence distracting, it was a warm comfort now.

Tension had settled in her gut when Kara gently reminded her that they were due at the Great Hall, but it was tension that she quickly discovered to be unfounded.

-----------

Tradition was easily becoming Lena's favorite day - likely because she was being largely ignored.

It was not malicious, but simply the nature of the moments shared between Krypton and the rest of the Alliance. She sat beside Kara in the Great Hall - not in an ornate chair, but on a long bench on one side of a long table.

When Kara guided her between the bench and the table - Lena feeling a bit silly at having to hike her legs up and over the bench one by one - the taller Kryptonian leaned down to speak to her softly.

"We use these tables and benches for the day of tradition, and they will remain in place for the reception after the wedding."

Lena grumbled softly, adjusting her skirts over her knees.

"They are a bit cumbersome, are they not?"

Kara smiled, her eyes twinkling as the setting afternoon light streamed through the windows, sifting through the banners waving gently above their heads.

"That is the point." She gestured down the table, where kings, queens, monarchs, hands, and knight captains alike were climbing over the benches. "Regardless of the quarrels that you have brought with you to this table, you are forced to begin the conversation by sitting down - which requires a unanimous, cohesive action. The benches must be pulled in all at once, and so we must work together. Even if your disagreement resumes when you have sat, it is enough to prove that you can, indeed, work together."

Lena's eyebrow rose slowly, and a smile quirked her lips.

"I think that I like that very much."

When everyone had found a seat at the table, silence fell as Zor-El lifted his hand in signal. As one, they all reached down and pulled the benches forward, dropping down onto it less gracefully than one would hope for a group of well-bred royals. A crack of laughter raced along the table, and conversations were immediately struck up again.

As Kara had pointed out, the Great Hall had been filled with such tables and benches, which were being set with cloths, silverware, plates, and flowers. Despite the inherent brevity of the oaths being taken and trade agreements being sworn upon, a flurry of activity whirled around them as if they were having a simple chat over breakfast about crop yields or weapon production.

Lena was doing her utmost to push away the weight of the discoveries she'd made yesterday - but they gnawed at her, gripping at her shoulders like claws, and the unknowns made her heart race and her stomach twist. But every time a thought rose up like bile, she found a warm hand on her body. Kara pressed it gently to her lower back, her shoulder, her upper arm. It was a mainstay, a weighted tether. Somehow, the blonde woman knew when she needed it without even looking at her.

At one point, the Queen from Twenx she had been speaking with was pulled away by her wife, leaving Lena alone with her thoughts and the last dregs of a glass of wine that she'd been poured. Panic squeezed her throat, when that comforting hand began a gentle grip on her thigh - somewhat higher than would be considered polite in courteous circles.