here's a contribution before bed

Of Queens and Clocks, Part I

Alright, I need to get the hell to bed, but before I do, here is my contribution to the WhiteTime fandom. It’s incomplete, in need of editing, and the formatting is assy, but I like it thus far. Don’t ask me where they are or what happened prior to this, because I don’t know. All I know is that I spent too much time on roleplay blogs (I’m looking at you, @whohasthetime and @mxrmoreal), developed feels, and then I had to get said feels out somehow. Enjoy! (Cover image by @mxrmoreal)

Mirana gently caressed Time’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry about my sister. It was beyond cruel, the way she treated you. You deserve better.”

Time avoided the monarch’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered, praying that she couldn’t see the tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. He was unused to being treated so kindly, and the pain of realizing Iracebeth’s complete disinterest in him was still all too real.

Mirana pulled a lacy handkerchief from her pocket and attempted to dry his tears, but her efforts were thwarted when Time raised a gloved hand and gently pushed her hand away. “Your kindness is appreciated, but unnecessary. I am fine.”

Mirana’s head tilted to one side and she raised an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that. Do you normally cry when you’re fine?”

Time scowled, taking the lacy handkerchief. “I am not crying. Whatever gave you that idea? I am Time himself, for God’s sake. I have never cried,” he muttered as he dabbed at his eyes. Seeing the look of utter skepticism on Mirana’s face, he hastily added (trying to suppress the tremor in his voice), “I just had something in my eyes. It is gone now.”

Mirana shook her head, clicking her tongue sympathetically.

“You know, you don’t have to keep up this brusque exterior. We’re alone. I won’t breathe a word of our conversation to anyone.”

Time noticed with a jolt of fear that his facade was rapidly crumbling and it was becoming much more difficult to keep his tears at bay. Since when was he so easily moved by some kind words from a pretty woman? Though, come to think of it, the Queen was a good deal more than pretty, with her marble-white skin, silvery hair,  dark eyes, and wine-colored lips…most would probably call her beautiful. Regardless, he was being pathetic.

So Iracebeth had left him after he’d outlasted his use to her. It wasn’t the first time someone had used him for their own ends, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Yes, he had genuinely cared for her, and yes, he had spent hours (poor things) lovingly crafting gifts she didn’t appreciate. Yes, she had been cold and unfeeling when he’d needed her most, but was it really worth all this nonsense? In the grand scheme of things, his relationship with Iracebeth barely registered as an event in time. It was, quite literally, but a drop in the ocean. The last thing he needed was to become…entangled with her possibly even more treacherous sister. Granted, Mirana seemed a good deal more pleasant than Iracebeth; she was quieter and more withdrawn (not unlike Time himself), treated her subjects (and Time’s seconds) with kindness, and she even smelled better than her sister; he caught a faint whiff of jasmine every time she moved her (thankfully normal-sized) head.

All the same, this had gone far enough. If she kept talking to him and looking at him like that…

Time’s lower lip began to wobble dangerously. Mirana’s brows knit together, the picture of heartfelt concern, and suddenly, Time was in her arms, tears tracking silently down his cheeks. His elaborate shoulder pads made it rather difficult for Mirana to properly embrace him, but she held him as best she could, gently patting him on the back.

“I loved her,” he sniffled into Mirana’s alabaster hair. “Why didn’t she love me? I tried so hard to make her happy, but it is impossible! She is…conwinced that no one loves her…”

Time fell silent, feeling stupid. None of it mattered now; it was done, and there was no changing it.

Mirana’s hand cradled the back of his head, carefully avoiding his gears.

“My sister is…selfish, immature, and struggles with impulse control. You are not to blame for how she treated you. Anyone else would be overwhelmed with joy at the prospect of such a devoted partner.”

Mirana seemed to realize that she’d said too much and abruptly shut her mouth.

Time wiped away a tear and raised a dark brow, lifting his head. His piercing blue eyes met her dark brown ones. What the hell was she playing at?

“Your Maj—er, Your Highness,” he whispered (wincing internally at almost using  Iracebeth’s preferred honorific), “what are you implying?”

Mirana’s heart skipped a beat. Dear God, how was she going to get out of this one?

“Ah—nothing! Merely that you…have a generous and loving nature which is lost on people like my sister. Objectively speaking, you’re quite the catch,” she tittered nervously, foot firmly in her mouth.

“Kind, loving, handsome…” Mirana stopped short, looking horrified as though she’d just accidentally uttered a vile curse word.

Time seemed to stand still, in both the figurative and the literal sense. The two of them stared at one another for what felt like an eternity until Time broke the agonizing silence.

“You think so?” he asked quietly.

Mirana nodded, feeling faintly numb.

Before she knew what was happening, she was leaning toward Time, caressing his face as she kissed him. To her surprise, he very tenderly and gently reciprocated. She wrapped one arm more securely around his back, caressing his head with her other hand.

As they kissed, Time drank in the pervasive scent of jasmine that seemed to cling to Mirana’s entire being. He’d never imagined that he would find himself in this type of situation, especially not so soon after his relationship (if he could even call it that) with Iracebeth. Iracebeth had never kissed him; in fact, she seemed utterly disgusted by the idea. And yet, here her sister was, stroking his hair as she gently applied her lips to his!