King of Wands, Queen of Thrones

BY : AndromedaValentine
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 1731
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: King of Wands, Queen of Thrones

Author: Margaret Brown, aka Andromeda Valentine

Fandom: Andromeda

Pairing: Dylan/Rommie

Rating: NC-17

Status: Complete (12/31/02)

Archive: Yes to list archives, anyone else please ask first.

Feedback: Yes, please!!

E-mail address for feedback: andromeda_valentine@hotmail.com

Series/Sequel: None

Other Websites: Crimson Redd - http://www.angelfire.com/goth/crimsonredd

Disclaimers: Not mine, as usual... (Lucky bastards...)



Summary: Fortune tellers, tarot cards, and some new clothes...



Notes: First off, this is unbeta'd, so my apologies. Any mistakes, obviously, are mine... It was written for the Andromerotica Festival Lyric Wheel - I was challenged to write a story with the theme of 'fate,' using a line from the song lyrics I was sent. My lyrics, courtesy of Tosca, were Heather Nova's 'Walk This World.' The line I used, somewhat altered, was 'And I'm sucked in by the wonder, and I'm fucked up by the lies.'

Second, I apologize to fellow tarot afficionados for playing a little fast and loose with it - I think I managed to stay true to the spirit of things. My meanings for each card come from The Tarot Workbook by Emily Peach - the particular spread I used was on Pg. 45 - and the deck I used was the Robin Wood Tarot, though I obviously altered of of the card images to fit the Andromeda 'verse.

For those interested, the cards I used for the reading are (in order): King of Wands and Queen of Pentacles, Queen of Wands and Ace of Wands, Three of Cups (Reversed) and Four of Cups, Seven of Wands and Two of Cups (both Reversed), and, finally, Ace of Cups and Six of Cups.



Warnings: None...

*************************

"I don't believe in fate or prophecy. You should know that before we start."

The fortune-teller just smiles at me. "The cards have nothing to do with fate and prophecy, child - they merely tell your eyes what your heart already knows. Besides, who's to say what fate really is? Perhaps it's just the name the observant give to the realization that certain chains of events are inevitable given the people caught up in them."

I smile at that. Fate as a matter of probability? I like the idea....

She hands me the cards then, instructing me to shuffle them as I concentrate on my question. My hands shake just a little as the cards slide through them - my question is not one I'm sure I even want answered, and it's taken a great deal of willpower (and desperation) to come here and ask it.

All too soon, she has the cards laid out in front of her, smiling as she stares intently at them. "An interesting variation on a familiar theme, my dear. But fear not - you'll have yoearteart's desire, and be better off for it."

I just arch an eyebrow quizzically. "And what, exactly, would my heart's desire be?" I think it's safe to say I'm more than a little skeptical.

"Why, your sweetheart, of course." She points at one of the two cards in the center of the table, and my eyes widen just a little. On it is a drawing of a blonde man in full Lancer armor, a forcelance at the ready in his hands, and the similarity to Dylan is uncanny.

"He's the King of Wands." she continues. "You work for him - or at very least he has authority over you at work. He's a good man, too, conscientious and generous. And very loyal."

Then she points at the card beside it - a dark-haired woman, seated out in a field on what looks like a throne. "This is you. The Queen of Thrones - you're very sensible, I'd wager, but always eager to make an impression." She smiles at me again. "And even though you work for your sweetheart, the *place* where you work belongs to you - you allow him his authority, like the old goddesses of sovereignty that give kings the right to rule their lands. Not a bad match, that - I've a feeling it suits the two of you well."

The skepticism recedes just the tiniest fraction of an inch, but I try to keep my reaction neutral. I'm still not convinced.

"These," she continues, gesturing at the two cards at the lower right corner of the table, "represent the forces working toward your answer. In thase,ase, they're what will help you catch your man." The cards show a wooden wand with a crystal on the top, and a blonde woman in Lancer armor with a forcelance, much like the King of Wands card.

"She's your sweetheart's colleague and equal." she says, referring to the card with the woman. "A Queen of Wands to his King, but only in the workplace. A mutual friend from work, I'd wager, who would like to see you two together. This Ace of Wands says that her advice is sound - you need to be daring and a little creative to catch your sweetheart's attention."

If I had a heart, it would probably be skipping beats. It was Beka that suggested Dylan and I take our leave together, even suggesting the summer fair this town was known for, and she who had also told me with a wink and a sly grin to let my hair down and play a little while I was gone. I've given it some thought, but-

"You feel that your need for change is selfish, and self-indulgent." The fortune-teller says suddenly, eerily following my own train of thought. I blink at her for a long moment before she gestures to the cards she'd been studying. "That's what these say. You *need* to change - you're actually *bored* with things the way they are - but you feel that your need to do so is frivolous somehow."

She smiles again as she moves to the next two cards. "You really *are* a career girl, aren't you? These two cards tell you what forces have been working against you and your sweetheart. Looks to me like it's mostly fear of mixing business with pleasure - you've seen one too many office romances go wrong, and the two of you just can't seem to connect emotionally outside the office."

The image of Jill Pearce springs quite vividly to mind all of a sudden, and I shift a little in my chair. My fear of ending up like her has been the biggest thing keeping me from telling Dylan how I feel, and my own pent-up emotions have made our sometimes difficult relationship even rockier.

The fortune-teller reaches over and pats my hand. "Not to worry, dear - your heart already knows the *true* answer to your fears. These last two cards say that you'll feel happy and complete with him, and that all your patience and hard work on your friendship will finally pay off once he's yours."

Somehow, all I can manage in response n arn arched eyebrow...

**********

I find myself wandering around the fair several minutes later, my thoughts running in not-so-lazy circles in my head. On the one hand, I would hardly expect a negative answer to my question, unless the fortune-teller thought I wanted one. On the other, she formulated her answer based on randomly drawn cards with standardized meanings, *and* she had never actually heard my question.

It *is* possible she faked it all, but it's also entirely possible that she gave me an honest reading. Obviously, I like that latter thought best...

I sigh in aggravation, wondering why it is that I always end up this way when Dylan is involved. With him, it's inevitable that I get sucked in by the wonder of what I feel for him and fucked up by all the little lies I tell just to cope with those feelings.

That would probably be why I agree with Beka when she says that *not* telling Dylan about my feelings will drive me crazy before anything else does...

Something brightly colored in my peripheral vision catches my attention, and I turn to find myself a few feet away from a clothing shop. I can't help smiling as I mentally calculate my spending limit - more than enough for what I suddenly have in mind.

You don't survive as a warship without knowing when to change your tactics...

**********

I'm waiting back in our suite when Dylan arrives. He breezes by me into his room to shower and change, chattering easily at me about his day as he does, and he finally provides me with the opportunity I need when he asks me what we should do for dinner.

"I thought we should go out, actually. I hear there's a really nice restaurant just a few minutes from here." I lean against his doorway as I speak, enjoying watching him move as he smoothes out his clothes and towels off his hair. The rest of my smile is probably from anticipation - I can't wait to see what he says about my new look.

"Sounds good to me - I'm starved. I hope they-" he replies, his voice trailing off as he finally sees me.

I just smile and let him flounder for words before I finally speak myself. "I went shopping today. Do you like?"

He swallows hard, and my smile widens ever so slightly as his eyes travel over me. "It's... nice..."

More than nice, actually, to judge by his reaction. I'm wearing a violet peasant blouse with a black bodice and matching violet and black skirts. The thin linen of the blouse and skirts clings nicely to my figure, and the tight lacing of the bodice is giving me an almost indecent amount of cleavage. (Which, I think, is most of the point...) Even my hair is different - a waist-length fall of dark hair held back by two braids entwined with violet ribbon that trails down my back.

A faux-amethyst necklace completes the outfit, and draws Dylan's wande eye eyes exactly where I want them. He even flushes a little - very prettily - when I smile at him after I catch him staring.

He's much the same way through all of dinner, actually, and I'm somewhere between charmed at the plain 'Dylan'ness of his behavior and elated by a newfound sense of my attractiveness. It's not often I get to be a woman instead of a warship, and it's made even nicer by Dylan's attentions.

**********

We go walking arm-in-arm through the fair after dinner, stopping at some of the shops. Dylan disappears momentarily, then reappears at my side with a flower for my hair - I have to fight back a contended sigh as his hands play in my hair while he works the flower into my braids.

Our next stop takes us to a weapons shop, where we both take our time looking over the knives and swords. I sift through the daggers, finally deciding on a simple bodice dagger and a similar boot dagger, while Dylan tries out various rapiers. It's not a hobby he gets to indulge in often, but he has quite a passion for fencing. I *do* have to admit, our sparring sessions *have* been fun, even if I'm not especially good with an epee yet...

On our way out, one of the shopkeepers informs us of an impromptu duel starting in a few moments that still needs participants. Dylan, his eyes aglow at the prospect, immediately volunteers. For my part, I'm not arguing - Dyls ams amazing to watch in motion, matched only by Tyr for strength and grace. (The two of them engaged in swordplay, incidentally, is enough to make a girl weak in the knees...)

Twenty minutes later, we're standing outside the dueling ring as Dylan receives last-minute instructions. Then the duel master calls Dylan to the ring, introducing him to his opponent, the winner of the previous duels. I can't help but smile - this is going to be a match to remember.

Dylan's opponent - calling himself Varius - salutes very prettily before smiling easily at Dylan. "It's customary, sir," he begins, "to have something to duel over. Would you care to make a small wager of some kind? Or have I wronged you in some fashion I know not of?"

Dylan just smiles back, playing to the crowd with the same theatrics. "Why not for the simple fun of the duelod sod sir? I have no grievance to air, nor any wager to make."

"A kiss!" I call out before I can stop myself. "I'll wager the winner a kiss!"

The gathered crowd cheers, and the duel master smiles as he turns to Dylan and Varius. "What say you, gentlemen? A kiss from the lovely lady for the most skilled with a blade?"

Dylan just smiles at me impishly, completely into his part now. "I'll take that wager. Varius?"

Varius bows to me with a smile as well. "As milady wishes."

The duel commences in earnest then, a beautiful blur of torchlight on steel, and I find myself as drawn into it as the rest of the crowd. I can see - better than the crowd can, actually - exactly how evenly matched Dylan and Varius are. Varius is tall and lithe, his long blonde hair whipping around as he moves, and his quickness is an even match for Dylan's strength and skill. Dylan, on the other hand, is slightly more proficient technically, giving him an edge over Varius' less pure style.

Finally, an opening appears in Varius' guard, and Dylan takes it, disarming Varius in a flash of light and steel. The duel master declares Dylan the winner, and the crowd goes wild. Varius retrieves his sword then, and salutes Dylan before they both bow to their audience.

Then Dylan makes his way over to me, and bows exaggeratedly. "My prize, milady?" he calls out loudly, still playing to the crowd, and they all start cheering even louder, some of them even chanting for us to kiss.

I lean forward, fully intending to give him a teasing kiss on the cheek. Instead, he turns his face at the last moment so that our lips meet. Electricity sparks at the contact, and the approving roar of the crowd fades into the background as my mouth opens under his.

Finally, we pull apart - the crowd still roaring its approval. Dylan just smiles down at me as I stand there stunfor for a long moment.

Then I smile back and reach out to kiss him again as the crowd goes absolutely insane...

**********

It's well past midnight when we finally make it back to our suite, both a little giddy with the amazing evening and just a tad too much ale. Dylan awkwardly excuses himself for the night, and there are several long seconds where I think he's actually going to kiss me goodnight.

He manages a quick peck on my cheek before escaping to his room, and I just smile as I wander into my own room, stopping to remove my boots and bodice, and grabbing one of my new trinkets off my nightstand before stepping out onto the balcony.

I stare out over the city, letting my thoughts roam over the day's events. I hadn't known what to expect with Dylan when I started this - in truth, I wasn't sure he would even notice, or how far I would pursue things if he did - but I think I'm willing to follow wherever it leads.

And, I think with a contented sigh as an errant breeze plays over my skin, I certainly have a few ideas about my preferred path...

Dylan's footsteps behind me pull me out of my reverie, and the long silence that stretches out between us makes me hesitant to even move.

The tension finally shatters as I feel him step up behind me and bury his face in my hair. He murmurs something in my ear about how beautiful I looked earlier, but it's lost in the feel of his hands sliding up to cup my breasts.

I find myself frozen in place as he pulls my blouse loose from my skirts, and I almost go limp against him as his hands slide up underneath to play over my bare stomach and breasts, his fingers toying with nipples gone pebble-hard at his touch.

Then he abruptly reaches behind me to unfasten my skirts, leaving me standing in only my thigh-length blouse. One hand trails back up to toy with my breasts again as I kick the skirts away from my feet, and the other finally comes to rest between my legs, probing gently at the damp folds there.

Knowing fingers play over my clit before sliding inside me in long, slow strokes that leave me gasping and moaning. Then I start whimpering as Dylan skillfully brings me to the verge of orgasm and then backs me away only to repeat the process>
>

I'm almost grateful for an end to the torment when he finally places both my hands against the balcony railing and takes me from behind. I'm also vaguely surprised, and strangely touched, to note that he's using a condom - a force of habit with him that speaks volumes about how he actually sees me.

I strain against him as he moves inside me, trying to find my release before the tension breaks me in two, but it seems he's intent on tormenting me still. It's a sweet torture, though, and it ends all too soon when he finally reaches his own limits and calls out my name as he climaxes.

His hands hardly leave me, though, and he turns me around to face him, kissing me deeply as my knees finally give out and I perch myself on the railing.

Then he undoes the ties on my blouse one by one, lips and tongue moving over every inch of uncovered skin. He pushes the blouse back just off my shoulders, and all I can do is whimper as his mouth closes around first one nipple and then the other.

I give another little whimper as his kisses move from my breasts to trail down my stomach, and I make a tiny pleading noise as he skips from my stomach to my inner thigh. He trails kisses down my leg to my ankle, and then back up the inside of my other leg, and I can't help but think I'm going to die of this if he doesn't end it soon.

Then he slides three fingers into me as his tongue finds my clit, and I really *do* die, orgasming with a choked cry and finally falling, limp and exhausted, into his arms.

**********

Sunrise finds me lying wakeful in his bed as he sleeps beside me. I smile softly, thinking of everything that happened last night, and crawl out of bed to walk out onto the balcony. The trinket I carried out with me is still there where I dropped it, now glittering slightly in the early light.

A Gypsy charm bracelet with exactly ten charms, each a tiny replica of a tarot card - the first of which is the King of Wands...



 



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