Hermitcraft/Empires oneshots/drabbles

We have each other (Cleo x Joe)

Another royalty AU! It's medieval this time. Princess Cleo

Tws: Mention of drinking, hangover

Cleo stood in front of the mirror, as multiple handmaidens worked on her hair, her makeup, her nails, her dress. Slowly, with each twist in her ginger locks, with each swipe of a brush, with each pin in her clothes, she began to lose herself. She didn't recognise the regal, aloof woman in the mirror. And yet, it was to be this woman who had to meet her betrothed, the man who she was supposed to love, marry, and be with for the rest of her life.

But Cleo had other plans. As the handmaidens worked, She thought of yesterday's meeting with her true love.

————

The previous evening

There was a quiet skittering noise, sharp and loud against the night silence. Joe couldn't keep the smile off his face as a familiar figure dropped into the garden from one of the high walls and strode towards me. She was dressed in a simple tunic and pants, orange hair pulled into a braid with flowers. The only thing that hinted at her enormous wealth and status was a sleek silver tiara that glittered in her hair.

'Your highness.' Joe bowed his head in mock respect. Cleo sighed, shaking her head. 'Joe, say that one more time and I'll teach you to fly out my window.'

'Anything for you, princess.' Joe tipped his feathered hat at her, and the swan feather fell out. He grabbed it and stuck it back into its slot, but overbalanced and fell forward in the process. Cleo cracked up. 'Y'know, there's an opening for jester in my court.'

Joe reddened. 'Shut up.'

Cleo's face closed down as she remembered something. 'Joe, I'm meeting my betrothed tomorrow.' She looked down at her feet, crossing her arms. 'I d-don't want to.'

'Oh, Cleo.' Joe stepped forward and placed his hands on her elbows. Anyone else trying that could expect to end up in an armlock from the princess, but Cleo leaned into Joe's touch.

'I can't believe my parents want me to marry him for a war alliance.' Cleo growled darkly. 'I mean, I have a younger sister! She even likes him, why can't she just marry him and let me be with you?' Cleo rested her chin on Joe's shoulder, pulling him closer. Her crown dug into his ear, but he didn't mind.

'It's because you're the oldest child. You get stronger marriage alliances.' Joe explained.

Cleo pulled back with a dubious expression. 'How do you know that?'

'I've been reading all your laws and traditions ever since you told me.' Joe shrugged, taking one of Cleo's hands. 'Just to see... If there's a loophole.'

'Aww, thats sweet.' Cleo placed a hand on his face, caressing his cheekbone. The two were close- almost touching noses. Joe closed the gap and pressed his lips to hers.

The two kissed passionately for a minute, then broke apart, gasping. 'Well...' Joe laced his fingers with hers, feeling the gaunt flesh, 'If this is the last night when you're allowed to legally see me... Want to go to a bar?'

Cleo perked up slightly. 'Heck yeah.'

————

The next day, Cleo had woken up with a pounding headache. Too much beer. She barely had five minutes before all her servants descended on her, pulling her up, dragging her over to the bath. When she complained about her headache and hoped they would let her off, they just forced her to drink a murky tea that tasted horrible but did completely soothe the pain.

Now, after an hour of cleaning, dressing and preparing, they deemed her ready to go down and meet the man she had been dreading all her life.

As she headed down the lonely hallway towards the main hall, there was a scampering sound somewhere near her. Confused, she turned, hand drifting to a dagger hidden in the folds of her skirt. She watched as someone wriggled through a window, got their hips stuck in the gap, and comically tried to pull themself through and fall to the ground face first. Cleo relaxed with a grin as she recognised the person.

'Joe, you really are an idiot.' She offered him a hand, all her bracelets clinking together. The poet scrambled up, dusting off his shirt.

'No way! I totally... meant to do that!' Joe said sheepishly. Cleo chuckled, then sobered slightly.

'You know you'll get in trouble if someone finds you, right?

'Eh, I'm aware of that, Princess. That's what these are for!' He gestured to his clothes, and for the first time, Cleo realised he was wearing the attire that most of her servants wore.

'No way you're going to try that.' She asked, incredulous.

'Hey, I may be a poet, but that doesn't mean I can't sneak around!' Joe wiggled his eyebrows. 'C'mon, Cleo. Wouldn't you feel better if I were there?'

'I guess... Alright. Thanks, Joe.' Cleo had started walking again, since she didn't want to be late. Joe kept pace with her easily, ducking his head and changing his gait to resemble a humble servant man. Cleo reached out and took his hand, in a way that it would be easy to pull away if someone saw them.

All in all, she decided that this wouldn't be as bad. Maybe she could just go meet her betrothed, exchange nice conversation. If she and Joe were making stupid faces at each other when nobody was looking...

Maybe she could handle this.