Out of the Ashes Ch. 17

Chapter 17: Sister's quarrel

(5,1k words, futa, female muscle, size comparison, dialogue, plot chapter, feats of strength, big curves, size praise, character motivation)

Early rays of sunlight danced over her warming skin as she passed by the richly decorated windows of the awakening palace. Listening to the bird's love songs was on par with the most bombastic of orchestral performances she had the pleasure of witnessing in the past. Even the air smelled somehow fresher.

What a difference taking care of her lust made in the morning she thought. All pent-up frustration over the last days was left at the bottom of Helena's bulging belly - who still laid collapsed on Margaret's bedroom floor. Next to her two apprentices.

What a delightful start to the day this had been and certainly much needed for today's challenges. She would need a clear mind and emotional balance, so much was certain. Especially considering who she wanted to talk to and hopefully sway to her side: Her by now more than imposing younger sister.

Who looked all things but overjoyed on how her sister took over the title as highking -- a title she was clearly meant to inherit herself not too long ago.

The paved way led into the eastern corner of the palace. A remote and calm place. The perfect playground for children, where they could let their playful voices echo from the walls without disturbing the affairs of kings and kingmakers.

Just like the two princesses who both spent countless days in their own made-up fantastical world there, which was barely limited by the back then sky-high walls. At a time when their biggest worry was about what "adventure" they would want to go on next.

A wave of nostalgia swept over Margaret as she looked over the inner courtyard, with the pathways coming together from all directions around the massive tree trunk at the foot of the biggest tree in the palace. Some would say even the entire kingdom.

It was one of the last of its kind, far taller and stronger than any ordinary tree and ancient enough to reside at the hill long before the first walls rose to challenge its towering might. A relic of the past for many, but to the two princesses: a childhood friend the two traversed in every way possible.

The new king's cheeks rose on their own when she remembered one of the last occasions when she and her sister played together like that. Climbing at the top of the tree, pretending they were overseeing the ocean and guiding ships into the harbour town from their "lighthouse".

The tree didn't age one day as it seemed, while the rest of the world around felt colder and emptier with every passing moment. It stood steadfast like the king remembered all her life and in a changing kingdom preserved something that was almost lost to Margaret these days -- a fleeting trace of childish innocence.

Margaret listened to the birds nesting in the branches above her and for a few moments felt content with letting her mind stray from her initial task. Seeing her wooden friend after all this time made the prospect of trying to climb it once more immensely appealing. Just to return to their imaginary world one last time. But her new figure wasn't one that allowed such acrobat feats anymore. Nor was the prospect of climbing a tree in plain sight of her guards considered "royal" behaviour either.

She sighed when forcing herself to avert her gaze from its beauty and focusing back on the groaning coming from the other side which demanded her undivided attention.

"Good morning, my king. You are early," the tallest of the three guards said as Margaret approached them.

"Good morning to you as well, Flavia. It's too beautiful of a day to spend most of it in bed, isn't it?" Margaret mused and frowned when she remembered that kingmother often used to say exactly that.

The grunting grew louder as the blonde stood closer to the place which she and her sister most often claimed for their adventures.

"I am not the first to visit our old friend, am I?" Margaret said and lovingly laid a hand on the tree.

"No. Your sister is working out at this time of day," Flavia said.

"At this time of day? You mean every day?" Margaret said.

"Every day. And most days more than once."

Margaret noticed the approval and admiration in Flavia's voice, just like in the mute gazes of her two sisters in arms next to her. They were inspired by traits like strength, discipline and frightening determination to the point of bordering to obsession. Of course, they were, after serving kingmother for so long. And Sybilla clearly aspired to follow her mothers' example, not just in appearance but also in her daily routine.

"I see. You three must feel tired of guarding her this early every day. Take a rest for once and make it a lavish one. You earned it. I will look after her myself for a bit," Margaret said with a playful tone with the slightest but noticeable trace of royal authority.

All three exchanged confused looks until Flavia was the first to understand their kings unspoken demand ... and knew she was in no position to question such a request.

"As you wish my king," she said and bowed first, quickly followed by the other two guards. "We will return once you want us to."

"You have my gratitude," Margaret smiled warmly. "Feel free to stroll around a bit. It's too beautiful of a day to waste it just on guard duty."

"As you wish, my king," the guardswoman said knowingly.

She tried to hide the questioning tone in her voice, but failed when withstanding the king's gaze. Leaving their post was considered a sacrilege within the royal guard. Nothing would make them forget about their oath to protect the royal family, not even for a brief moment. Unless their king ordered them to. Margaret's words, regardless of how warm and considerate at first glance, were exactly that -- orders.

The guards reluctantly made their way towards the exit of the inner courtyard, just to turn around and catch a last glance of Margaret's stern blue eyes assertively guiding them on their way out. The king wanted no one to eavesdrop, even her trusted guards. Maybe... especially her trusted guards.

This shall be a conversation between sisters, not a confrontation of two princesses who might find themselves fighting over the loyalty of their most loyal protectors. A fight Margaret wasn't sure she could win.

The blonde composed herself and envisioned how the conversation should turn out, but as usual there is no certainty in what Sybilla was up to. The good or the bad. Yet, fear did not take hold of her. For now.

Margaret's heavy footsteps already announced her arrival long before she was in sight of her exhausted sister. That didn't make the younger princess stop her workout though. Her punches flew hard and fast into the trembling sandbag -- with her fist's imprints remaining visible long after each blow.

"I wondered when you would come," Sybilla muttered.

Her breath was deep but steady. She was going for it for quite some time already. Every strain of her bulging back and shoulders surged with muscle, with sweat trickling past her neck, down her lazy ponytail and all the way down to her sweaty pants.

"You make it sound like a big deal. Is it really that out of the ordinary wanting to visit my little sis?" Margaret asked with a smile while coming closer to the black-haired amazon.

Sybilla might no longer have the upper hand when it came to height, but in regards of sheer strength there was no denying that Margaret stood no chance. Every new step towards her made it more than clear: the younger princess put all she had into becoming who she was now -- also helped by her own remarkable growth spurt. A terrifying soldier and the perfect replacement to the most legendary warrior their race had ever seen.

"What do you want, sister?" Sybilla asked while landing another punch that made the chain on which the bag was attached to shake in agony. "Or do you prefer 'my king' these days?"

Margaret shook her head and walked into her sister's view by standing next to the punching bag.

"I prefer Maggie. As usual. Nothing has changed between us."

"You really think so?" Sybilla asked smugly without returning her sister's gaze once.

She didn't follow up with any explanation on what she meant by that. Like Margaret wasn't even here, she kept hammering away with increasing intensity.

Margaret waited for her sister to address her presence once more, but it seemed that Sybilla wasn't interested in having any conversation whatsoever. At least as long as it could be avoided.

The king took hold of the bag with both hands before it could swing back into the princess' fists. Which made Sybilla look at her for the first time -- with visible disgruntlement.

"Can we talk? Please," Margaret asked. "For real."

The black-haired princess took a few deep breaths before replying. It was almost scary how much she looked like her mother now. Not just her newly gained brawn, but also the way she looked at Margaret. Her green eyes pierced just like kingmother's used to do, accompanied with the same eery silence as she chose her words carefully.

"Is there something we need to talk about? Aren't there a dozen more important issues for you to take care of? Kings used to be busy I thought," Sybilla said.

"There are, but I desire to speak to my sister. This is the most important thing to me for now."

Sybilla's eyes were as unyielding as they were unforgiving. She kept eying her by now taller sister with clear annoyance and only reluctantly gave in.

"Alright then. I am listening," she sighed as she started removing the bandages from her whitened knuckles.

Her fingers and joints crackled when she continuously stretched and blenched her hands, which only further highlighted the rather ridiculous extent of sheer muscles on her forearms. Not that her sleeves weren't also impressively filled and peaked with a biceps that most guards would be envious about.

Margaret needed to calm her sister down. She knew about her temper. She wasn't one that rejoiced losing herself in long debates or philosophical topics. The king had to choose her words carefully to not further enrage the younger princess.

"You have been busy I see," Margaret started and observed Sybilla's pile of equipment laid out under the branches of their favourite tree. Weights she could not even dream about ever lifting herself.

"There didn't pass a day without me wondering what you have been up to. I am going to admit, I am happy to see what you have achieved... and that you kept visiting our big friend here."

"Life wasn't that bad," Sybilla replied drily and crossed her bulging arms before her chest. "And yes... I spend much time here."

"With great success I'd say. Look at you," Margaret smiled and took a step towards her sister who immediately restored the previous distance.

The blonde felt a knot in her throat when seeing how distant her sister had become over the past days. Which was even more surprising, considering she looked quite enthralled upon their first reunion.

She sighed and looked up to the mighty branches reaching almost all the way towards the walls.

"We used to have so much fun here. Don't you sometimes miss those days? I sure do. You might be used to it, but when I first saw our friend again, our "lighthouse", I felt rather nostalgic. Remember that time when I broke my arm falling down? I was too scared to tell queenmother for three days. I will never forget her face when she noticed," Margaret mused.

Again, without earning any visible reaction on her sister's stoic face.

"I was there, of course I remember."

Margaret shook her head in defeat and exhaled audibly.

"Is it really that painful to speak to me? I thought you were happy to see me at first."

"I was. And I am still happy to see you are back and well."

"But you are also angry. Because of something I did, or because of something that kingmother did?" Margaret asked.

"Both."

Sybilla's expression didn't flinch in the slightest, but her body gave her away. Her crossed arms dug deeper into her forearms; her widened stance got narrower as her cold confidence showed first cracks.

"I didn't ask for the crown, Sybilla. I didn't return to take that away from you. I did it because it was necessary, nothing more. I swear," Margaret said.

"Yet, you achieved exactly that. But don't think I am just jealous over something so mundane as a crown to a kingdom," the princess said in a sarcastic tone.

"But you make it sound like that's the reason," the king replied which promptly unleashed Sybilla's fury in her gaze.

"And I still say that I am not bothered about that. But of course, you are just thinking that everything is about you. You took the crown; therefore, I have to be the spoiled, scheming second born trying to take it away from you. Not much has changed I see," Sybilla growled.

Margaret needed a few moments to take that one in. She wondered what her sister meant by that... and why she made it sound like this kept happening time and time again. Almost like she wasn't the one being spoiled, but Margaret, who received nothing but resentment and open disgust from kingmother.

"Could you please explain what you are saying? You told me something similar right before the duel," she cautiously asked, but her sister's green eyes lit up with silent anger nevertheless.

"I could. But I am sure you would not understand. You didn't understand it so far, why should you now?" Sybilla said coldly.

The king struggled to find words. It was like she was standing on trial, or even worse ... being lectured by kingmother. Every reply, every word she threw against her sister came right back to haunt her. But just like the former highking once said "When diplomacy is dead, there is a time to draw swords".

"Will you keep giving such cryptic remarks to further humiliate me, or will you put your cards on the table already?" Margaret hissed.

"What did you just say?" Sybilla muttered and tensed up.

"I said you should tell me what you want. You keep on showing me nothing but hate and frankly I haven't given you any justification for doing that. I know you prefer coming straight to the point, so why do you keep toying with me when you could help me putting these differences aside?"

The moment these words escaped the king's mouth she didn't know what would happen next.

Sybilla could get quite explosive during their past quarrels ever since their childhood, and that was long before she turned herself into muscle-bound amazon that could rip Margaret in half with her bare hands.

Still, a part of her hoped to see her sister's rage fully surface. She knew that after that first, initial outburst the princess' more logical and composed character would eventually shine through.

Sybilla didn't offer her this calculated tirade though and did something ten times more frightening -- she remained totally silent and only let her fiery eyes do the talking.

The eyes of predator lingered upon the terrified king and made her almost shiver on their own. The longer Sybilla remained silent, the more dangerous she would become.

For the first time ever, she felt genuinely scared that her sister could harm her ... and no one could tell how far she would go then. Margaret for a brief second wished she wouldn't have sent the guards away, but could they even save her in time? She wasn't sure.

"You really want to know?" the princess said with a voice that could pierce a wild boar but remained mostly calm.

"I want to know why you resent me so much. Yes," Margaret replied without revealing how shaken she felt.

"I don't resent you..." Sybilla said with almost uncomfortable stoicism.

The black-haired princess lowered her gaze and composed herself. She must have doubted to ever have such a conversation, otherwise she would have dished out her reply straight away. She took a few steps towards the sand bag, which prompted her sister to get out of the way -- out of fear and do not relinquish the control she suddenly held over the conversation with another purely emotional outburst.

Sybilla took a few deep breathes and teasingly buried her first slowly in to the ropy sandbag.

"You wouldn't believe how often I had this conversation in my head. So often that I can't believe it actually happening now," Sybilla said and turned to face her sister.

Margaret smiled when she sensed some genuine warmth coming from her sister, which proved to be a foolish assessment.

"You are a self-absorbed brat, Maggie. Everything you do, no matter if it even affects you or not, has always to be about you. Everyone is either there to comfort you without ever questioning you, or you portray yourself as the victim, which everybody wishes nothing but harm of course. You have been like that for years ... and our mothers, they still loved you for that. You were just too blind to see it. Like you were too blind to see how they treated others besides just you."

It took Margaret's full mental fortitude to not fall for such bait. She clenched her first and swallowed her words when listening to her sister. Would she have been less balanced or feel the same frustration like in the last few days she would not have been able to keep her mouth shut over such an evaluation.

"Care to elaborate?" she grunted between grit teeth.

Sybilla shook her head and sighed dramatically.

"Do I really have to start from scratch? Of course, I have, this is the first time you ever got told the truth," she said in an infuriatingly complacent tone.

"Please enlighten me with your truth then, my dear sister," Margaret spat. "Tell me how much mother loved me. I can't wait for that explanation."

"She would have given her life for you and you still doubt her?" Sybilla asked with growing anger. "You must be denser than I thought. Everything she ever did was for you. Not me, not even the kingdom. For you. And you still think she did you dirty? Give me a break!"

"I heard enough!" Margaret exploded which even silenced Sybilla to both their surprise. "She wanted to marry me off against my will, she attempted to kidnap me and threatened to slaughter my friends and their families. Don't defend her twisted logic by pretending she did it for me. She has no idea what I want or who I am!"

Sybilla was by now as agitated as her sister, but she managed to hold that all-consuming fury under wraps -- far better than Margaret. Until she didn't.

"There she is again. The same little brat. 'Me! Me! Me! Poor little me!' They both told you that everything leading up to today was because they wanted to protect you! And believe me they didn't think of anything else than you! You... always you. The oh so perfect Margaret. You could have spat them right in the face and they would have still adored you for that! You are making me sick!" Sybilla hissed, somehow without shouting at the tops of her lungs.

"What in the gods name is your problem?! Do you really think I asked them to do that? I would have given so much if they would have casted me aside for ju-"

"Don't even fucking dare!" Sybilla exploded. Her finger pointing directly at her sister and her whole arm bulging with muscle.

"You don't even know how that feels like! You are so used to being the centre of the whole fucking universe, you got no right to talk about such a thing! You got no idea how it feels to fight for your mothers attention every single day, yet alone their love. You don't know how it feels to realise every single day little by little how you will never feel the same love as your sister, who does nothing but resist both your mothers teachings and their affection. Don't ever fucking pretend you do know!"

Margaret stumbled back when Sybilla's finger invaded her view, a few inches before her nose.