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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 days ago

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A Princess & Her Knight ~ 22

A PRINCESS & HER KNIGHT MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,315ish

Summary: You and Logan start to get on with your regular lives as a Queen and her Knight.

Warning(s): fighting, mental health, talk of marriage

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

The sun was now fully risen, casting soft glow across the stone paths and blood-streaked garden. Raven’s body had been removed and the poison blade secured. But the echo of her last breath still hung in the air like smoke.

You were back on the bench now, a cloak wrapped around your shoulders, few splats of blood on your hands. A servant came with a report, but Logan took it before it could reach you.

“I can still read,” you told him quietly, not really fighting his decision.

“Not today,” his tone left no room for argument. You watched as he dismissed the servant with a curt nod and then knelt in front of you so you were eye to eye. “You’ve done enough.”

“There’s still work. The kingdom should—“

“It can wait.”

“Logan.”

“You could have almost died. Again.” You looked away. He reached up, gently tilting your chin back towards him. “I won’t let you walk another step today. Not out of pride or duty or stubbornness.”

“So what, you’re just going to carry me everywhere today?”

He didn’t smile, he simply stood. “Yes.”

Then, before you could argue, his arms swept under your knees and around your shoulders, lifting you effortlessly. You rested your head against his chest, heartbeat steady against your ear.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you told him.

“You matter more than the crown,” he said quietly. “Just let me do this.”

You didn’t respond or fight. Logan carried you all the way to your chambers. He laid you gently on the bed, pulled your your blanket up, and kissed your lips briefly before sitting beside you without a word. You leaned back into your bed, allowing yourself to realize that you had won, in more ways than one. But you had won in the most important part: you had found someone who would carry you— not because you were weak. But because you didn’t always have to be strong.

~~~

Weeks later…

The training yard was mostly empty, save for the occasional guard practicing drills in the far corners. The morning sun poured over the stone courtyard, casting long shadows from the targets and practice dummies. You stood in the center, in pants and boots with a practice sword in your hand. Across from you, Logan smirked. He couldn’t help but check you out briefly before shaking his head slightly.

“First rule of swordplay,” he began, “don’t let go of the sword.”

“That seems obvious,” you commented.

“You say that now, but you haven’t been hit yet.”

You raised the blade as he stepped closer, slowly circling.

“Why do I feel like you’re enjoying this?” You asked with a sly smile.

“Because I am.” He moved behind you, adjusting your grip by sliding his hands gently over yours. His breath brushed your ear. “Loosen your fingers. You’re holding it like you’re afraid it’ll bite.”

“It might.”

“Not if you stop choking the handle.” You rolled your eyes but obeyed, adjusting your grip. Logan pressed a light kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Better. Now strike.”

You turned and swung. The sword sliced the air wildly before jerking in your grasp, nearly toppling you forward. Logan caught your elbow, laughing.

“You trying to fight me or tame a wild animal?” Logan teased.

“Don’t mock me,” you pouted.

“Oh, I’d never, my Queen.” He pecked your lips. “But you have terrible footwork.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then show me.”

He raised his own practice blade and took a stance. “Come at me.”

“You want me to attack? You haven’t even shown me anything!”

Logan shrugged. “Why not? You’re terrifying in meetings.”

You lunged with a grin. He dodged, laughing, before he tapped your side with the flat of his blade.

“Dead,” he told you.

“That doesn’t count!” You argued.

“Still dead.”

You turned again, swinging harder. Logan caught the blade with his and locked it there. The two of you were close now. You could see Logan’s eyes shimmer with something just short of lust.

“Still enjoying this?” You asked, breathless.

“Immensely,” he responded with a smug grin. He leaned in closer, barely allowing his lips brush against yours. “You want to win?”

“Obviously.”

“Then stop holding back.”

You didn’t know whether he meant the sword or everything else between you. But when you pushed him back and lunged again, he let you win.

~~~

You and Logan continued to ignore your duties, opting to stay in the training yard and the courtyard beside it. You and Logan were now in the grass, barefoot. The practice swords were abandoned in favor of hand-to-hand drills. Currently, Logan was teaching you how to disarm. Which he claimed to be a simple technique.

“It’s about leverage,” he explained, “not strength.”

“You say that like you don’t outweigh me by more than half a soldier.”

He grinned. “If I go easy, it won’t feel real.”

“So don’t go easy, then.” A dangerous gleam sparkled in your eyes.

He raised his hands, palms open. “Fine. Disarm me then.”

You stepped forward, focused. You grabbed his wrist, ducked under his arm and pivoted the way he’d shown you. Then with a flick of your foot and a twist of your body, Logan hit the ground. He landed flat on his back, hard and stunned.

“Well, damn,” he muttered.

You crouched over him, planting one knee gently on his chest. “That was easy enough,” you teased. You reached down and took his hands, but didn’t help him up. Instead, you straddled his waist and leaned over him. “Should I show you what else I’ve learned?”

His breath caught. “Is that an actual question?”

You kissed him before he could say more— slow, deep, and anchoring. When you finally pulled back, he was breathless beneath you. “How was that?”

“I surrender.” He pulled your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Best defeat of my life.”

~~~

Another bunch of weeks later…

Logan walked quickly through the wing of the castle, brushing off three different guards who tried to update him on training rotations. He was irritated. He had been separated from you all day due to the two of you having meetings. He hated going so long without seeing you or being close to you.

When he reached your office, Logan knocked before slipping in. He looked around to find the room empty and his irritation quickly turned to something colder.

“No,” he mumbled.

The papers were still stacked on your desk. A tea tray sat untouched while a quill bled a small black pool onto your shaky notes. Logan’s chest tightened. He scanned the room again, brow furrowing. Then, he saw it. The tapestry in the corner, slightly crooked, and a corner turned back just enough to reveal the gap.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” he muttered.

Logan crossed the room in three strides and yanked the tapestry aside. There, half-concealed, was the edge of the secret doorway that Logan didn’t even know what there. His heart dropped. You had passageways built into this new castle and you didn’t even tell Logan about them. He should have known.

Logan was moving before he even thought about it. He slipped inside, pressing his hand to the mechanism that locked the panel back into place and let it click shut behind him. He moved fast, heart thudding against his ribs.

“Y/N,” he called, low and urgent.

His boots echoed off the stone. His breath came faster, not from exertion, but from panic. Because if something had happened— if someone had lured you into the passageway— or if this was a trap— No. He couldn’t think like that.

“Y/N!” He tried, sharper now.

Logan turned corner after corner, moving faster with each passing second. He turned another corner and suddenly stopped. There you were. You were sitting on the cold floor, knees hugged to your chest. Your head was bowed and you were crying. Not loudly or uncontrollably. Just quietly, like the weight of everything had finally tipped too far. Logan exhaled hard— not from relief yet— but from the ache that hit him like a blade through the ribs.

“Y/N…” he softly called.

You looked up, startled, quickly brushing at your eyes. “You weren’t supposed to find me,” you rasped.

“It’s my duty to always find you.” He crossed the space between you and knelt down, careful not to crowd you. “What happened?”

You tried to speak, but the words didn’t come right away. And when they finally did, they were hoarse. “It’s too much… Everyone needs something. Every hour, every minute of every day. A decision needs to be made, or a judgement. Something needs to be signed or sealed. I do it because I love this kingdom and its people. But… I don’t remember becoming this… more symbol and solution than a person.” Your voice cracked, hands trembling. “I remembered the passageways and that no one would be able to follow me… not even you…” You finally looked up at him, eyes glistening. “You came anyway…”

“Because I’m not ‘no one’. I’m me. And you don’t get to break alone anymore.”

Logan sat beside you, not saying anything more. You leaned into his shoulder slowly. Once you were comfortable, he wrapped an arm around you, trying to ground you.

“I don’t want to be Queen tonight,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t be. Just be you.” He kissed your head before resting his against it. “And I’ll keep the world out for as along as you need.”

~~~

The council chamber doors closed with a soft thud behind the last of your advisors. You remained seated at the head of the long table. You had ruled for almost two years now. Without a king. Without question. But now, the question had been asked.

“There’s no doubt in your leadership,” Jean said. “But the people are hopeful and curious. They want to know what future they’re building towards. What kind of legacy you’ll leave for them to serve.”

“It isn’t a demand,” Wanda nodded as she spoke up. “It’s a dream. They see peace now. And with peace comes the space for more.”

“They want to know when their Queen will marry,” Ororo said. “And to whom.”

Silence fell after that. Not our of uncertainty, but out of obviousness. No one had said Logan’s name. But they didn’t have to. Logan’s presence at your side was as constant was your crown. He was the one you turned to before anyone else and everything else. He never asked for power.

“We’re not telling you what to do,” Jean added. “But… if he’s willing…”

The implication hung in the air. If Logan’s willing to be more than your sword or shadow. If he’s willing to be more than the man the entire kingdom already knows you love.

You couldn’t give them an answer. Logan wasn’t in the room and the idea of speaking about him like a political piece, felt wrong. You stood as the silence settled yet again. Your gaze drifted towards the window, where you knew Logan was helping with the training of new guards.

“Just give it some thought,” encouraged Ororo. “And maybe talk to Logan too. See what his thoughts are.”

~~~

The hearth was low, flames flickering gently across the walls of your chamber. You sat curled up on the edge of the lounge, eyes unfocused but staring out the window. Logan leaned against the doorway. He’d noticed the silence the moment he stepped into the room, like something was weighing on you. You hadn’t even looked at him at all yet.

“You’re quiet,” he noted.

“Just thinking,” you breathed out.

He crossed to you, resting a hand on the back of the lounge. “About?”

You didn’t answer right away and that silence made him shift. “They asked me today. The council.”

“…Asked what?”

You looked up at him, eyes tired but clear. “If I planned to marry.” He exhaled as he looked away. “I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Not without talking to you first… Logan… would you marry me?”

The words hung there for far too long. Logan’s jaw tightened as his eyes remained off of you. “No.”

“No?”

Logan stepped back, hand running through his hair. “I’m not meant for that life.”

“You practically already live it.”

“No. I walk beside you. I protect you. I fight for you. But I don’t wear crowns. I don’t sit on thrones.”

“I never said you had to. You’d be my husband, not king.”

“You think the court will accept that? You think the people won’t turn on you the moment they see you crown a man with no noble blood? A man who’s spent most of his his life with a sword in his hand and a price on his head?”

“They already accept you.”

“Because I stay out of their way.”

“So you’d rather love me from the shadows forever?”

“If it keeps you safe, yes.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t about me.”

“It’s about everything! Everything that comes with standing beside a queen! The scrutiny. The politics. The target that it will paint on both of us.”

“So what, Logan? We survive betrayal, poison, war— and this is what breaks us?”

“You deserve someone who can walk beside you in the daylight. Not someone who hides behind you because he’s afraid of what might happen to you if he steps out of the shadows.”

You stared at him, stunned and wounded. “I never asked you to hide.”

“No, you didn’t. I did that all on my own because I know that I will never be enough for a Queen. Even if that Queen is you.”

He turned before you could say anything else. He crossed the room and, for the first time since your throne was claimed, he walked out. The door closed behind him, leaving the room feeling cold and empty.

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