#funiduber

It is the dawn of the 24th, and Kitchell usually knows it by the sound of her sister hopping awake early for the first and usually only time all year. She could practically mark this date by feeling alone now, detecting it merely with the scent of pastries in the air and her sister’s excited feet pattering down the halls.

It has many names, the 24th. For the Crystallian church, it was marked as the Starlight Celebration. The Church of Seiros, ever-competitive, began festivities preparing for the arrival of St. Cichol on the 27th. For the Hylians, this was the feast day of the goddess Nayru, whose love would warm them through the difficult season ahead. The Engineers often called this day Clangnap Eve, as it was said Clang slept the day after and would make no acts of His will upon the creations of the Engineers. (Which often meant all hell broke loose on this day. Wilson once joked to her that it was the Great Gear getting His zoomies out and poor Booster nearly snorted her milk out her nose laughing.) 

And for the High Crown, Ethereal 24th marked the birthday of their current crown princess eagerly rushing to the kitchen. 

Normally, Kitchell would be part of all of the festivities. She would be up early, preparing breakfast in bed for her sister, giving her men their marching orders, adjusting security details to allow for Ami to change plans at whimsy as she did near every year. And usually, Kitchell did wake at dawn to drill her men anyway.

Not this year. Two very important things had changed this time.

1. She was Princess Kitchell again, for the first time since her childhood. 2. She had a royal consort of her own, and that consort was currently both sharing her bed and still dead asleep, her tail occasionally twitching against Kitchell’s thigh, a loose orange curl accidentally found in her mouth.

It was the cutest goddamn thing she’d ever seen, that spit-slick orange curl in her poor girlfriend’s mouth, her little fists twitching in her sleep like she was brawling in a tavern or perhaps (and far more likely) working on a machine.

Even as Kitchell carefully raised herself up on one arm to look down at her girlfriend, sunlight catching the edge of her well-toned tan forearms, she did so only so she could look at her girlfriend more and move the curl out of her mouth.

Booster did not fuss about the curl’s removal, or the rough pads of her girlfriend’s fingers gently brushing her cheek. She did not fuss at the feeling of her girlfriend’s gaze, or the sunlight creeping toward Kitchell’s bed. Booster slept on, peaceful, the worries of the world far away from her.

Deep down, Kitchell sincerely wished they could just stay like that all day. Being princess had its duties, being princess-consort equally so. But while Booster was asleep, she wasn’t thinking about how they had to receive Exalt Chrom and his entourage next week for the resigning of the treaty between Ylisse and the High Crown, nor was she thinking about Aeonia’s colony-ship in Cosmos airspace. She did not think of how best to outfit over a thousand soldiers and how cost efficiently she could do it without compromising their safety, she did not think of the City Zone and her friend with dog-eared hair and her arguments with Uncle Death.

Though, Kitchell knew she dreamed. She’d been kicked awake a few times only to hear the next day of where Booster wandered beyond the Dream Gate. (Another unfamiliar thing to Kitchell at first, but so had been flying until she mounted her first pegasus.)

Booster’s nose twitched and her face scrunched up. Her tail slapped the back of Kitchell’s thigh again like it had been personally offended, so Booster was almost certainly dreaming.

What did she dream of, though? Kitchell figured it must be of fantastic machines even Cosmos would not see for years. Idly, though, Kitchell hoped she was at least there with her. 

Equally idly, Kitchell ran her thumb over Booster’s stomach, her free arm still gently draped around the other girl’s waist. This still did not wake her.

Ami getting overexcited about pancakes and accidentally bounding into a full suit of armor sending it crashing to the floor, however? This was sufficient, and her eyes blinked open at the creeping-in dawn. She shifted slightly, and purple eyes found warm brown and a familiar smile.

“Hey,” Kitchell said softly.

“Ami’s up early,” Booster groaned, but smiled right up at her girlfriend. “Or you are late.”

“I am late because Ami threatened me with exile if I let you wake up alone in this obnoxiously big bed again.”

“That does sound like a very Ami thing to say.” 

Booster turned in Kitchell’s arms to face her, leaning cutely on an arm just like her. “So... what duties do we have today? Too many? Or is Ami giving us a present on her birthday and said we’re supposed to be “guests of the crown” all day so we can stay in bed.”

Again, the sunlight caught those eyes Kitchell loved so much. They practically shined.

“Our duty is, and I quote, to stay in bed for as long as we want because it isn’t fair that Booster wakes up alone all the time,” she laughed.

“Oh! Well, in that case,” Booster suddenly yawned, snuggling deeper into the covers. “I do think I am still dreaming, and since I am still asleep, that means we stay here and cuddle a bit longer. Right?”

“Exactly how it is, my love. We’ll just have to stay here. Under orders and all.”

Booster inched closer with a happy hum, laying her head on top of Kitchell’s firm chest. “We truly are bound by duty to the crown, I suppose that only suits us. How long before Ami comes and gets us anyway?”

“Hourish.”