Closed Post: #SelfCare

[sorrowandsorrow]

Eat your heart out, Castle Whitespire. Eat your heart out, Eliot Waugh. Janet doesn't need any of you, because she found this stupid mansion's stupid Jacuzzi all by herself. In the aftermath of the zombie uprising (by the way: what the fuck?), she must have been putting out some kind of extra desperation, caked in sweat and zombie dust and the dirt of the mansion's grounds, because as she stomped down the hallway to her bedroom, something told her to open a door. And she did. And there it was.

It was fucking glorious, and she was too selfish to wait that time, but she has a date to set up. Susan will find a neon orange Post-It stuck to the door of her room this morning that says: Found it. Meet me at seven o'clock tonight, third door on the right when you hang a left past that ugly chandelier with the swans. --J

She even doodled a little crown symbol over the letter to make her point clear.

When Susan does make her way to the room with the hot tub, she'll see Janet in a black bikini with a glass of prosecco in one hand, another frosty glass sitting on the tiles next to her hand. With that hand, she's propping herself up as she takes a sip. Her legs are dangling into the Jacuzzi already, but she hasn't switched on the jets yet.

Comments

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan shivers despite the heat of the water, and tilts her head, taking Janet in. "I'll pencil you in," she says, lips quirking. She likes the way that Janet makes her want to rise to a challenge, and nudges Janet's ankle with her toes

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet smiles a little, more to herself than anything, and curls her hand around Susan's wrist so that she can rub the pad of her thumb across the thinnest skin there, over her pulse. She knocks her foot back against Susan's, too, almost a fond kind of a gesture. "You're too generous, Your Majesty."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Never, if it's in the interest of international diplomacy, Queen Janet," Susan replies, breath catching the tiniest bit at the stroke of Janet's thumb.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Hmm." Janet's smile lingers, and she keeps her thumb there, just stroking it back and forth. "You can tell me more about Narnia if you want. Or not."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan purses her lips, considering. A wicked gleam enters her eye. "So, Queen Janet of Fillory," she says, pressing her foot against Janet's calf now, cautiously. "I hear you've an interest in opening diplomatic negotiations with Narnia. I believe opening trade between our countries is a good first step, so: In the wake of the Ettinsmoor War, we have made robust additions to our farmland, and have a surplus of grains and fruits, many of which have also been blessed by maenads and dryads. Following our victory in the recent conflict, we have new diplomatic ties with the Northern Giants, as well; their quaint workstuffs are the pride of Talking Beast matrons nationwide."

[sorrowandsorrow]

This is better than Janet could possibly have imagined. She angles her leg into the touch, her fingers coiling more tightly around Susan's wrist. "You make an intriguing proposition," she says loftily, "I must admit." Fuck, she misses being in charge of her stupid fantasy kingdom. "I admit, there are some weaknesses in our economy following the recent war with Loria, despite our handy and extremely predictable victory. The centaurs, although huge assholes, are skilled woodcrafters and healers -- maybe we can consider trading skills as well as raw materials."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Ah! Our centaurs are excellent fighters, but their medical skills fall woefully short," says Susan. She twists to face Janet, bringing her un-engaged leg up onto the seat, folding it underneath her. "There is tension building from Archenland, though, and healers might likely be - useful, in the future. Perhaps an envoy - some cultural trade between our respective tribes."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Feeling almost inexorably pulled into Susan's orbit, Janet turns, too, so they're finally face to face. After sitting side by side for all that time, with the plausible deniability of looking at the ceiling or the roiling jets of the Jacuzzi, it's a pleasant little shock to see Susan's face, the pink of her cheeks and the fullness of her mouth. A prosecco-stupid part of her wants to say hi instead of continuing the game, but she likes the game, too. "Good thinking," she says archly instead. "Our dwarves are fantastically skilled builders and craftspeople. And, of course, all four kings and queens of Fillory are exceptional magicians. Three of us graduated from Brakebills and one from Esquith, in Tasmania."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Janet is - beautiful, her hair curling from the heat, her eyes bright with their game. "We four haven't got any magic of our own," Susan says; a little sorrowfully. "Witches have been mistrusted since before the reign of Jadis. But we grew up with our roles, and have our own talents. And we have the most delightful cooks. Our fauns are unparalleled in their baking skills."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Baking fauns," Janet says, already almost laughing again. "Fillory is almost never that... cute." She clears her throat. "What I mean, of course, Queen Susan, is that we're sorely lacking in precious twee bullshit -- and it sounds like you have plenty of that. Another area in which a trade relationship may well benefit both of our kingdoms, don't you agree?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, it's not all cute," Susan says, brightly enough. "But if cuteness is a desired import of yours, we can provide."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Well, don't get me wrong. We have talking beasts, too, for instance." Janet laughs under her breath. She's still stroking Susan's wrist. "Ours can teach yours curse words as part of our pilot skill-sharing program."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Our sword-mice have cursing well covered," Susan says, thinking briefly - carefully - of Reepicheep and his loyal fighters. She's smiling still, the easy flirtatious one, but it does strike her - a little meanly - that she's glad this particular faux diplomatic dance doesn't involve yet another condition of considering her hand for some far-off lord or king. "Though our bears could use some improvements in that area."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"It's good that you're aware of your kingdom's deficiencies as well as its strengths," Janet says loftily, and then a smile tugs at her mouth again. This is a smile of a weird but fond memory. "Do your bears like to drink? The first talking animal I ever met was a drunk bear. He was obsessed with peach schnapps."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I've met a beaver or two who likes his beer," Susan agrees. She's running her eye over Janet's face - less assessing than usual, but still searching. Janet's cheeks are pink, her eyes bright. Some of her hair is pulling free of her messy bun. After a beat, Susan lifts the less-encumbered of her hands, dripping water, and takes her own turn in tucking an errant tendril of Janet's hair behind her ear. "And of course Bacchus and his maenads liked their wine, but they weren't Talking Beasts."

[sorrowandsorrow]

The brush of Susan's fingers against her ear, and her palm against her cheek, has Janet admittedly distracted. She turns her face into the touch just a bit. Beneath the water, she lets her hand slip down so that she's holding onto Susan's other hand instead, her thumb pressed now to the meatiest part of Susan's palm. "Bacchus, huh? I have to admit, we only had the two gods, and they were both shit." At least they're gone now.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan's hand flexes against Janet's, fingers now brushing at her wrist. "Bacchus was minor, like the river gods and the dryads." Aslan was treated as reverently as any God, but wasn't called such. She supposes there was always Tash, the Calormen God; they certainly referenced Him enough during that debacle with Rabadash.

She shivers. She doesn't want to think about that debacle with Rabadash, not when she's comfortable ensconced in a miraculous tub with a beautiful woman touching her hand. Carefully, she catches Janet's eye, and edges infinitesimally forward.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet lets her gaze catch on Susan's, looking at her head on. "So," she says, and that word is spoken lightly, but then her voice dips into something more assured. "This is your escape hatch, okay? If you don't want this diplomatic negotiation to go any farther, this is the off-ramp."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

It's easier to give in, knowing that Janet is also interested. That surety buoys Susan as she sways forward and says, "Surely if we're to send our people on... cultural exchanges..., we queens should lead by example."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"I knew I liked you for a reason," Janet says, and she would smile, but she's busy. With confidence, she hooks a hand around the back of Susan's neck and pulls her in -- not that there's much space remaining, but Janet vanquishes it handily, and kisses her.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Even though Susan knew this was where they were heading, the kiss still takes her a little by surprise. This won't be evident to Janet, though; she responds eagerly and with no discernible hesitation. She brings her hand up to Janet's cheek, where she lets it rest, damp and warm, for a scant moment before pushing it further back, feeling the edge of Janet's hairline.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet wouldn't necessarily have needed the liquid courage, but it helps enough that she's grateful for it. She kisses Susan with intent, with her hand firm around her neck, and without any hesitation. Finally, she entangles their fingers properly where they're still submerged in the hot water.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan uses the leverage of their joined hands to pull Janet closer, angling her head and deepening the kiss. The water between them displaces quickly with the movement, lapping at the edge of the tub and then flowing back to splash at her body; she ignores this, in favor of a focus on getting some sense of how Janet operates, with this sort of thing.

[sorrowandsorrow]

The little bitten-off sound Janet makes would be a laugh if it had a chance to get any farther than it does. She's focused, though, kissing Susan as their mouths open against one another and she can taste the sweetness of the prosecco on Susan's tongue. Once she has half of a single wit about her, she shifts to sling a leg over Susan's, hooking it around her hip, wanting to hold her there in more ways than one.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan presses against Janet, moving her hand from Janet's cheek down over the span of her back, feeling the lines of her bikini, and then tucking a finger underneath the band of it. She leaves it there, not pressing, but she likes the weight of Janet's leg on hers, and the intent way Janet kisses.