All Hail the Shifter King
Title: Lords of Kensington, Part 1
Word Count: 1223
Notes: In 2013 I wrote a holiday story (which is no longer canon) about Katrina and Ryder having to spend the night in a hotel after they're stranded by a blizzard. The story and the characters have changed a lot since then, but I couldn't get that little story out of my head - since then, I've expanded on the plot, changed a lot of stuff around, and stretched it out into a full novella. It's technically non-canon, but only because it's meant to take place somewhere around the first book in the trilogy (and Katrina wouldn't be able to safely leave Rion Fell during that time). For the sake of the people who asked for it, we'll go with "full canon" and leave it at that. The "Kensington" in the title is the name of the city that Katrina is from (it's also where a lot of my other verses take place). Also, I will neither confirm nor deny any connection between Katrina's grandmother and one of my own (bless your soul, Nanny).
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Katrina Shan exclaimed as she stared up at the arrivals and departures screens above her, one hand gripping her carry-on and the other pressed against her forehead in disbelief. One by one, every flight on the enormous screen was flipping from DELAYED to CANCELLED, drawing similar cries of frustration from the hundreds of passengers around her. "No, no, no! You can't be... ugh!" She lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose as she both weighed her options and waited for the inevitable phone call. As if on cue, her the pocket of her heavy wool coat started to buzz - she removed the slim phone and tapped the screen without looking.
"Hi," she said miserably.
"Sweetheart, your flight's been cancelled!" came Preston Shan's distressed voice.
"You don't say."
"Are you okay? Do you have somewhere to stay? Will you -"
"Daddy, we literally just walked off the plane. I don't know what the plan is yet but..." She looked up as a second chorus of distressed cries rang out around her - another handful of planes had swapped to no-fly status. "We'll figure something out."
"Was it that terrorist boyfriend of hers?!" yelled a hoarse, elderly voice in the background. "If that little fucker's stopping me from seeing my Kitty -"
"Lord's sake, Mother, for the last time, the boy is not a terrorist!" her father exclaimed, and offered a sheepish, "Sorry, she's been into the brandy," when he came back to the conversation.
"At least Grandma made it there okay," Katrina mentioned. "And no, it's not his fault, unless he developed the ability to cause snow storms without me knowing." When the tall, white-haired man beside her raised an eyebrow at her, she pulled the phone away from her face long enough to say, "Grandma thinks this is your fault."
"Well, fuck you too, Grandma," Ryder muttered, turning his attention back to the screens and sipping from his large cup of coffee.
"What did he say?" her father asked.
"He says he can't wait to meet Grandma," Katrina told him, giving Ryder a quick elbow in the ribs that made him splash coffee on the front of his jacket - he glared at her as he pulled a napkin from his pocket and dabbed the offending liquid away. "Look, I have to go. This place is chaos, so I'm going to grab us a hotel and -"
"You could always drive to Antovinn, you know. It's only four hours. You could stay with Uncle Don and Uncle Chris? I'm sure they'd love to -"
"Dad, we just spent eighteen hours on a jet," she interrupted calmly. "And it's snowing."
"I could dri-" Ryder started, and was cut off by another quick elbow. He looked about to elbow her back, too, but had to step to one side to dodge a frazzled father chasing after two screaming children.
"I suppose you're right," Preston conceded. "I just... no, no, you're right. I'm just eager to see you, that's all."
"Tell her to ditch the terrorist and come back home!" Grandma Shan screeched, so loud Katrina actually jerked her phone away from her ear. "Tell her I don't want no half-terrorist great-grandbaby -"
"Sweetheart, I'll let you go," Preston said quickly.
"- that'll grow up to sell atom bombs at the Sunday market and -"
"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully," Katrina replied, and quickly turned the phone off and stuffed it back into her pocket. Sighing heavily, she turned to Ryder and leaned into his chest, looping her arms around his waist. "I'm regretting this already," she murmured into his jacket.
"You're telling me," he said, hooking one arm around her shoulders. "Nobody told me you could buy atom bombs at the market."
"She meant black market." Katrina looked up at him, curious. "And you could hear that?"
"I think the ticket agents heard her," he quipped, gesturing to the bank of harried agents being mobbed by angry travelers on the other side of the terminal.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. She sounds entertaining."
"Oh yeah, that's my drunken grandmother. Life of the party." Katrina pulled away and turned in a slow circle, surveying the chaos around them. With the snow piling up on the glass ceiling of the huge terminal and the throngs of stranded passengers, she could almost imagine herself stuck in a disastrous Christmas airport shutdown rather than a mid-spring Coronation Week holiday. Freak spring blizzards weren't entirely unheard of, but they were definitely uncommon enough that she was cursing her luck. She'd been expecting rain, not sub-zero temperatures.
As she completed her three-sixty of her surroundings her eyes fell on Ryder again, who had finished his coffee and was standing still with his hands in his pockets, surveying the crowd. If he was at all bothered by the change in environment, he didn't show it. If anything he looked completely at ease, blending in thanks to the clothing she'd ordered him before they left Rion Fell. He'd complained, of course - the wool coat was too long and restrictive, the scarf was aggravating, the long-sleeved shirt a nuisance, the boots so heavy he couldn't walk comfortably. Those complaints lasted until they'd made their first connection on the tarmac in negative wind chill - after that, he quieted considerably and seemed almost grateful for the warmth of the garments.
"This place is a zoo," she muttered as she raised herself up on her tiptoes, trying to see over the bulk of the crowd. "Okay. We need to find the special baggage claim and -"
"Over there," Ryder told her, pointing behind her.
"And we need to find a hotel that'll take pets..." She trailed off when he snorted a laugh, and gave him a pointed look. "For the hundredth time -"
"Yes, I know, around humans they're pets," he said, rolling his eyes and chuckling. "Though why anybody would want them as pets is -" He managed to successfully dodge her elbow and hooked his fingers in the strap of her purse as he twisted away. "So, you fetch the rats and I'll fetch your credit card -"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she said, yanking her purse away from him. "Not a chance."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not letting you go nuts and book a presidential suite."
"Technically it's not your credit card."
"How about you get the kids and I'll -"
"I can't. Those things are registered in your name -"
"Don't call them 'things', Ryder, that's just mean."
"- and there are several thousand people that will need hotel rooms in short order." He wagged his fingers at her. "So, credit card, if you please."
Muttering under her breath - knowing full well that he could hear every hissed profanity - she reached into her purse and removed the platinum corporate card her father had sent her, rubbing her thumb briefly across the stamped letters on the front before she pressed it into Ryder's palm.
"Be reasonable," she stressed, grabbing the cuff of his jacket before he could dart away. "It doesn't need to be fancy, just somewhere we can sleep for one night, understand?"
"When am I ever unreasonable?" he asked, and flashed her a winning smile before he vanished into the crowd.
Word Count: 1223
Notes: In 2013 I wrote a holiday story (which is no longer canon) about Katrina and Ryder having to spend the night in a hotel after they're stranded by a blizzard. The story and the characters have changed a lot since then, but I couldn't get that little story out of my head - since then, I've expanded on the plot, changed a lot of stuff around, and stretched it out into a full novella. It's technically non-canon, but only because it's meant to take place somewhere around the first book in the trilogy (and Katrina wouldn't be able to safely leave Rion Fell during that time). For the sake of the people who asked for it, we'll go with "full canon" and leave it at that. The "Kensington" in the title is the name of the city that Katrina is from (it's also where a lot of my other verses take place). Also, I will neither confirm nor deny any connection between Katrina's grandmother and one of my own (bless your soul, Nanny).
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Katrina Shan exclaimed as she stared up at the arrivals and departures screens above her, one hand gripping her carry-on and the other pressed against her forehead in disbelief. One by one, every flight on the enormous screen was flipping from DELAYED to CANCELLED, drawing similar cries of frustration from the hundreds of passengers around her. "No, no, no! You can't be... ugh!" She lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose as she both weighed her options and waited for the inevitable phone call. As if on cue, her the pocket of her heavy wool coat started to buzz - she removed the slim phone and tapped the screen without looking.
"Hi," she said miserably.
"Sweetheart, your flight's been cancelled!" came Preston Shan's distressed voice.
"You don't say."
"Are you okay? Do you have somewhere to stay? Will you -"
"Daddy, we literally just walked off the plane. I don't know what the plan is yet but..." She looked up as a second chorus of distressed cries rang out around her - another handful of planes had swapped to no-fly status. "We'll figure something out."
"Was it that terrorist boyfriend of hers?!" yelled a hoarse, elderly voice in the background. "If that little fucker's stopping me from seeing my Kitty -"
"Lord's sake, Mother, for the last time, the boy is not a terrorist!" her father exclaimed, and offered a sheepish, "Sorry, she's been into the brandy," when he came back to the conversation.
"At least Grandma made it there okay," Katrina mentioned. "And no, it's not his fault, unless he developed the ability to cause snow storms without me knowing." When the tall, white-haired man beside her raised an eyebrow at her, she pulled the phone away from her face long enough to say, "Grandma thinks this is your fault."
"Well, fuck you too, Grandma," Ryder muttered, turning his attention back to the screens and sipping from his large cup of coffee.
"What did he say?" her father asked.
"He says he can't wait to meet Grandma," Katrina told him, giving Ryder a quick elbow in the ribs that made him splash coffee on the front of his jacket - he glared at her as he pulled a napkin from his pocket and dabbed the offending liquid away. "Look, I have to go. This place is chaos, so I'm going to grab us a hotel and -"
"You could always drive to Antovinn, you know. It's only four hours. You could stay with Uncle Don and Uncle Chris? I'm sure they'd love to -"
"Dad, we just spent eighteen hours on a jet," she interrupted calmly. "And it's snowing."
"I could dri-" Ryder started, and was cut off by another quick elbow. He looked about to elbow her back, too, but had to step to one side to dodge a frazzled father chasing after two screaming children.
"I suppose you're right," Preston conceded. "I just... no, no, you're right. I'm just eager to see you, that's all."
"Tell her to ditch the terrorist and come back home!" Grandma Shan screeched, so loud Katrina actually jerked her phone away from her ear. "Tell her I don't want no half-terrorist great-grandbaby -"
"Sweetheart, I'll let you go," Preston said quickly.
"- that'll grow up to sell atom bombs at the Sunday market and -"
"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully," Katrina replied, and quickly turned the phone off and stuffed it back into her pocket. Sighing heavily, she turned to Ryder and leaned into his chest, looping her arms around his waist. "I'm regretting this already," she murmured into his jacket.
"You're telling me," he said, hooking one arm around her shoulders. "Nobody told me you could buy atom bombs at the market."
"She meant black market." Katrina looked up at him, curious. "And you could hear that?"
"I think the ticket agents heard her," he quipped, gesturing to the bank of harried agents being mobbed by angry travelers on the other side of the terminal.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. She sounds entertaining."
"Oh yeah, that's my drunken grandmother. Life of the party." Katrina pulled away and turned in a slow circle, surveying the chaos around them. With the snow piling up on the glass ceiling of the huge terminal and the throngs of stranded passengers, she could almost imagine herself stuck in a disastrous Christmas airport shutdown rather than a mid-spring Coronation Week holiday. Freak spring blizzards weren't entirely unheard of, but they were definitely uncommon enough that she was cursing her luck. She'd been expecting rain, not sub-zero temperatures.
As she completed her three-sixty of her surroundings her eyes fell on Ryder again, who had finished his coffee and was standing still with his hands in his pockets, surveying the crowd. If he was at all bothered by the change in environment, he didn't show it. If anything he looked completely at ease, blending in thanks to the clothing she'd ordered him before they left Rion Fell. He'd complained, of course - the wool coat was too long and restrictive, the scarf was aggravating, the long-sleeved shirt a nuisance, the boots so heavy he couldn't walk comfortably. Those complaints lasted until they'd made their first connection on the tarmac in negative wind chill - after that, he quieted considerably and seemed almost grateful for the warmth of the garments.
"This place is a zoo," she muttered as she raised herself up on her tiptoes, trying to see over the bulk of the crowd. "Okay. We need to find the special baggage claim and -"
"Over there," Ryder told her, pointing behind her.
"And we need to find a hotel that'll take pets..." She trailed off when he snorted a laugh, and gave him a pointed look. "For the hundredth time -"
"Yes, I know, around humans they're pets," he said, rolling his eyes and chuckling. "Though why anybody would want them as pets is -" He managed to successfully dodge her elbow and hooked his fingers in the strap of her purse as he twisted away. "So, you fetch the rats and I'll fetch your credit card -"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she said, yanking her purse away from him. "Not a chance."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not letting you go nuts and book a presidential suite."
"Technically it's not your credit card."
"How about you get the kids and I'll -"
"I can't. Those things are registered in your name -"
"Don't call them 'things', Ryder, that's just mean."
"- and there are several thousand people that will need hotel rooms in short order." He wagged his fingers at her. "So, credit card, if you please."
Muttering under her breath - knowing full well that he could hear every hissed profanity - she reached into her purse and removed the platinum corporate card her father had sent her, rubbing her thumb briefly across the stamped letters on the front before she pressed it into Ryder's palm.
"Be reasonable," she stressed, grabbing the cuff of his jacket before he could dart away. "It doesn't need to be fancy, just somewhere we can sleep for one night, understand?"
"When am I ever unreasonable?" he asked, and flashed her a winning smile before he vanished into the crowd.