LbN: Delayed, but back again! This is a recap - if you remember what happened in season 1, feel free to skip to Chapter 2. Enjoy!
Previously, on Beauty and the Baroness...
"B-Baroness Lopez, I'm not— This isn't what it looks like!"
Santana raised her brow, then narrowed her eyes. "Wait… You're… Berry. Rachel Berry, daughter of the doctor."
The girl, Rachel, nodded slowly, still on the ground, and most obviously nervous. "Um… Yes, m'Lady…?"
Santana knelt and gently helped her to her feet. She looked her over quickly, taking in the fine outfit. She smirked. "Dare I ask why you're running from your own wedding?"
Rachel lowered her eyes as the noble brushed a few tears away. "I just… needed some air, m'Lady."
"Quite a lot of air here on the edge of the village," Santana said, still smiling.
"I…I…."
Taking pity on the obviously flustered girl, she held a finger to her lips. "Shh…it's alright. I'm sure cold feet before your bonding ceremony is perfectly natural."
"It's already happened," the younger woman whispered.
Santana quirked an eyebrow at her. She took her wine sack from the saddle and offered it to Rachel. "Calm yourself. Drink. Now, why on earth would you be running from your husband." A dark look passed over her face. "Is he harsh with you?"
Rachel laughed and took a small sip of the sweet wine. It was worlds better than the foul mead Finn had served at the ceremony. "I guess he's no crueler than most. But I've only just met him today."
Santana reeled back in shock. "Engagements usually last a good year with peasants! And the lords of the area are notified. Why the rush?"
Tears began to fall, and Rachel looked down again. "I…I had to. To help my family."
"Ye gods," Santana muttered. She'd heard of this - some of the low born basically sold their daughters away to the highest bidder.
Hoof beats sounded on the cobbles, drawing the women's attention down the road. A group of three riders was coming towards them, and Santana could tell by Rachel's look of fear that the leader was her new husband.
"You! What are you doing with my wife?" the man demanded.
"I'll thank you to show me a bit more respect, good sir," Santana said evenly.
"I do not take orders from wenches," he sneered. "Come, Rachel."
Immediately Santana stepped in front of him, drawing her sword and pointing it to his throat before the large man could even set his hand on the hilt of his own weapon, or even for his companions to react accordingly. "Tell me, wretch, do you often speak with a limp tongue to those of higher blood than you?" asked the Baroness calmly, a slight, smug smirk gracing her features.
The man doubled back, hands up, and a frown twisting his face angrily. "Higher blood? I am Finn son of Hunds, Baron from the North! And who are you to speak to me in such a way?" glowered the tall, lumbering man.
"Archduchess Lopez, Lady of these lands. On your knees, scum. I am not fond of swinish, urchen-headed skut," snarled Santana. Finn's companions did so with haste, but their leader hesitated, gnawing on his lip angrily.
Suddenly, he stepped back, drawing his blade, and set his jaw. "I see what you want now, Lady Lopez, be that your true title at all. You wish for my woman. She is mine, by fair and legal contract. I suggest you be on your way before I must use force!"
Rachel stepped back from Santana and her newly made husband, eyes wide as saucers and hands trembling. "F-Finn, don't. Lady Lopez truly is the ruler of these lands, and a worthy, terrifying advisory. She'll-"
"Silence, woman! Let the harlot speak for herself!"
In a flash of sunlight Santana's sword was slicing through the air, a fierce scowl on her lips and teeth bared as she swung without relent, pushing Finn back as he tried to recover from the sudden attack, barely able to parry the rain of heavy, quick blows. "You disgusting -slice- knavish -slice - son of an ogre and a whore! You wish to match blows for this lady's hand? Then so be it!"
And with that Santana pressed into her attack, just as Finn made to thrust his blade to your chest. She stepped to the side, parrying the reckless attack easily, twisting their blades together and around, then out, and as Finn's sword flew from his hand to land somewhere off to the side beyond his reach his opponent stepped in, one food behind his ankle, and kicked it, sending him to the ground as well.
In less than a second the tip of her sword was pressed to the man's Adam's apple, her boot heavy on his chest and heated eyes boring into him. "You declared this a duel for Lady Berry's hand, as witnessed by your own and the Lady herself. You are defeated, and I thus claim her as my own."
The group stood stunned as Finn gasped for air on the ground.
"I… I never agreed… You can't…you can't do that," he wheezed.
"Can't I?" Santana asked with a smirk.
"She is mine! And she will come with me, lest she wishes her family to starve."
Rachel was shaking slightly, and Santana could see that she needed to put an end to this for the younger woman's sake. She removed her boot from Finn's chest and stood back. "Very well. I hereby invoke my right of prima nocte."
"What nonsense is this?" Finn asked.
"Your grace," one of his companions said, and then spoke softly in his ear.
He turned an impressive array of colors before exploding. "WHAT?"
"As lord, or in my case, lady, of this land, it is my divine right to have a young maiden on her wedding night," Santana explained, amused at the oaf's purple face. "And when I say 'have', I'm being indelicate."
"I forbid it."
"You, sire, are on my land. You have no authority or right to forbid me anything," she snapped. "Your bride shall be returned safely to you…if she wants to return, that is."
Finn stood huffing as Santana helped Rachel onto the horse. "I have heard of you," he called.
"Oh?"
"Now that I think on it. They call you The Beast. Well, Rachel," he spat at his wife, "I wish you luck with The Beast tonight. Perhaps you'll think twice about running from me in future after she ravages you like the animal they claim her to be."
The other riders visibly recoiled from their lord. Santana was tempted to cut the brute down where he stood, but the shaking figure in her arms settled her temper. She nudged the horse gently, and they sped of to the west towards the castle gates.
Santana stalked up the stairs to the eastern wing, nodding at the servants who bowed respectfully. In truth, she wasn't sure how to proceed from here. She had won the duel, which technically meant Rachel belonged to her. However, this Finn character was from the northern part of the kingdom. The northerners were impossible to reason with. Sitting at her large oak desk, she pulled a sheet of parchment to her and began writing a letter. There were only two people she trusted enough to ask advice. One was off fighting a crusade. The other…. "Come," she said, hearing the knock at the door. She didn't look up, knowing it was the messenger she'd summoned. "I have a task for you."
"Yes, m'lady."
"You are to take this letter to Prince Blaine immediately. Do not travel through town. Take the road through the farmlands. It should get you there just after nightfall. It is urgent," she stressed. She sealed the letter with her crest and stood, advancing on him. "Will you do this task?"
"Yes, Baroness," he said, gulping. He was probably old enough to be her father, but she inspired quite a lot of fear and awe in the servants. As much, if not more than, the peasants in fact.
"My thanks. Off with you." He gave a respectful nod before leaving her.
Santana couldn't help but be amused by the girl's nervousness, but at the same time it wasn't exactly what she wanted. She wanted Rachel to be more at ease— it would make the later events go much more smoothly.
"Anything, really. Hobbies, preferences, and the like. Any… special talents, perhaps?" She raised her brow, her easy smirk set in place, and the odd squeezing in her heart returned at the sight of the younger woman's blush. "From what I can recall, you used to sing quite often, and your skills rivaled the bards themselves. Do you still?"
Head snapping up, unable to keep the excitement from bubbling up, Rachel nodded, smiling honestly for the first time all day. "Oh, yes, m- I mean, Santana." The name felt completely strange on her tongue, but she kept on. "I sing whenever I can. Once upon a time I wished to be an esteemed performer, singing and dancing for the highest of royals across the world, with nobles proclaiming my skills and talents to all they met." She blushed harder, suddenly realizing how that must sound. "But it was just the dreams of children, I assure you. I understand my place in life better now."
And unwanted marriage had made sure of that.
"My Prince," one of the pages said, bowing. "A rider from the south-western barony has just arrived. He has some message of importance for you. I assured him that I would deliver it with haste, but he's insistent upon giving it directly to Your Highness."
Blaine chuckled. "When the Archduchess gives a command, her servants usually follow it above and beyond her expectations. Thank you, Pagan. I shall see him now."
"Indeed, Your Highness."
Blaine crossed the hall and climbed the stairs of the castle. As he went into his study, he smiled, wondering what Santana had gotten into this time. They were old friends, and in their younger days his father had had a mind to betroth them. As they got older, however, the king had stumbled upon various reasons that wouldn't work. But he hadn't fought it. In fact, he'd agreed to legitimize any children either of them had by biological or magical means - meaning Santana's descendants would be in line for the throne as well. Officials and advisors had balked, but King Darren had already drawn up a plan of succession. Now, as he reminded Blaine nearly every day, the only obstacle was to get the Prince and/or the Archduchess to settle down long enough to create some heirs.
"Enter!" he called, hearing the knock.
Pagan and a sweaty rider came strolling in. The rider took a knee and presented the scroll.
"Your Highness," he said, panting slightly.
Blaine took it, leaning against his desk as he read. A smile crept over his face as he took in his friend's messy handwriting. A low chuckle turned into a full belly laugh. "Oh…this is a treat. She's done some things in her time, but I do believe this is the best. Pagan, my lad?"
"Yes, my Prince?"
"Show this man to the servants' quarters. Ensure that he gets a hot bath and a good meal. I'm sure he's weary from his travels. Then you will saddle your horse and take back my reply."
"Me, Highness?" Pagan asked.
"Yes. My lady is up to some sort of devilry and requires my advice. It comes at a most opportune time, in fact, as I meant to visit within the fortnight. I shall write out my response, and you will deliver it. Go to, my lad."
"Yes, my Prince!" Pagan tapped the messenger on his shoulder, signalling him to stand. With one last bow, they left the prince to his thoughts.
Still chuckling slightly, Blaine sat down to reply to Santana's letter.
Santana,
I say this with all the love in the world that I bear for you - you are the craziest knave in the kingdom. I've heard of your exploits with the commoners, but really? Claiming another noble's bride? That takes nerve, even for you. That said, you do indeed have something of a valid claim because of the duel. No doubt Hudson will contest it, saying he was coerced into fighting or fighting to defend his lady's honor or some such nonsense. If everything is as you say, I shall have no qualms finding in your favor, and settling any bad feeling between your two houses. I should like to do it in person, however. My young servant Seekins is…well, seeking Baron Hudson in town today. I will arrive tomorrow at supper, and we shall settle this matter over a feast. My best and my love, dearest friend.
HRH Blaine Phillip Darren Chris Anderson, First of His Name, Prince of Limania
It had been decided that the duel would take place in the training hall, with a victory feast directly following. Rachel sat next to Prince Blaine, dreading the fight despite all of the reassurances she'd received.
Santana and Finn entered from opposite ends of the hall, to much cheering from the servants, the noble entourage, and the few richer citizens who'd been invited to witness the event. The two of them took a knee in front of the raised platform on which the Prince was seated, and held out their weapons for inspection. Santana's was a sword of gold and red. It was obviously tailored to her specifically, as the handle was a perfect fit in her fist. Finn's was some sort of lethal looking… thing. It had the shape of an axe, but the extra points of a mace.
Blaine stood and looked over both of them. "You agree to the weapons chosen?"
"Yes, Your Highness," they answered.
"And you agree to fight fairly, according to the rules of the Kingdom of Knighmycle, and to do honor to both your Houses?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Then rise, and may the fight begin!"
Rachel didn't want to watch, but at the same time, she couldn't look away. She watched, captivated, as the two nobles put their helmets on and took up fighting stances at the center of the hall. Blaine rested a gentle hand on top of hers, and signaled for the Dancing Master to ring the gong.
A long, low note rang out, and the two fighters advanced on each other.
The dual had been quick, but skillful, and all present cheered and clapped for two nobles, who were both sweating and panting from the exertion. Finn bowed his head for a moment, before drawing back, picking up his weapon and taking a moment to bow to the Prince, before exiting the training hall surprisingly graciously, thought Santana.
Santana walked to the raised platform, saluting Blaine with her sword and bowing her head. He stood, winking down at a giddy looking Rachel, before turning is gaze to Santana. "With three strikes, the winner is Archduchess Lopez. The feast of victory and good will shall begin in a short time, to allow our fighters time to wash and dress properly. I shall see you all in the dining hall!"
More cheering, and slowly the crowds began to exit the training hall, nobles to sit in the hall and servants to finish preparing everything. Rachel all but ran down to Santana, throwing herself at the woman.
"You won, m'lady!" she exclaimed, grinning. "Lord Hudson was better than I had thought he would be, but you were clearly his superior! And your blade! I've not seen a weapon like it before. Nor his, to be honest. Do all the high classes have such strange and beautiful weapons?" She was talking a mile a minute, eyes wide with awe and excitement, having been drawn into the play of sorts, the dance, without even realizing it.
Truthfully, they both had looked incredibly. Finn a force of nature upon himself— an avalanche, perhaps. Fitting for his Northern heritage. And Santana a storm, a hurricane even!
The fight, quick as it had seemed to go, had indeed been a beautiful dance, and Santana the most beautiful dancer, in her eyes.
Santana picked Rachel up and kissed her firmly. Setting her back down, she grinned and said, "I told you - nothing to worry about. I shall see you at the feast. I must go change from my armor."
"Yes, of course, m'lady."
Santana kissed her forehead once more and strode from the hall.
The next morning, the riding party was gathered at the northern gate. Prince Blaine had already left, just after breakfast, leaving Finn's smaller company to ride out north now.
Finn bowed low to Rachel and Santana and snapped his fingers at one of his servants. "I thank you, Lady Santana, for your generous hospitality. A present for you."
The servant handed her a small wooden box with an intricate design carved on it.
"It's a box made from the enchanted diamondwood of our forest," Finn explained. "It will keep anything you need safe - responding only to your touch."
"Thank you," Santana said, quite surprised at this act of generosity.
"And for Rachel," he said, snapping his fingers again. "They were supposed to be a wedding gift, but let them be the mark of what I hope will be a lasting friendship."
"They?" Santana said, looking up and craning her neck.
Rachel squealed with delight as the servant came forward, holding two puppies.
"Hudson Huskies," Finn said, smiling. "Both are well trained already. The one with the black patches is Angua. She's very fast, and listens to commands well. The one with the grey is Gavin. He's smart, a true hunter."
"Thank you!" Rachel said.
"You're welcome. And now, I bid you both farewell," he said with a bow.
"Santana? May I ask a question?"
"Of course you may."
"Why do you call yourself a baroness? It's not your official title, and it's…well, lower than what you truly are."
"It's where I started," she answered. "And I never want to forget that. I was appointed Baroness when I was ten. I earned my other titles later. When the king meant to marry Blaine and myself, I was created Archduchess, and put in line for both my father's territory and the throne."
Rachel shook her head in shock. "The throne?"
"Indeed. I'm second in line after Blaine. Of course, once he has children, that will move me back."
Kurt stared at the two goblets. They were both black, with designs of silver. Each was full of a deep purple, sweet smelling wine. He smiled. "Left."
"Are you sure?" the president of the Assassin's League asked.
Kurt said nothing, but took the goblet on the right and took a deep drink. "Delicious. And, as we suspected, lacking any poison."
The burly black man chuckled. "You always were an expert at detecting these things."
"We weren't top of the class for nothing, Azimio," he said, eyes twinkling.
"Yes, about that. Don't you think people will talk? What with the scholarships you've just endowed, and your numerous visits…. The public is bound to suspect."
"The people talk about us anyway," Kurt said dismissively. "That we're not a forceful enough ruler, that we're wasteful, that we would be terrible in combat. All of which are untrue."
"But a rumor that you were educated at the Assassin's League School for Boys would, indeed, be true."
"Aye, it would. But would anyone be idiot enough to take us to task for it?" Kurt asked with a slightly evil smile. "Father didn't want us to become some stupid pampered prince with no real abilities. School was good to us."
"And you've certainly been good back," Azimio said, checking the ledgers one more time. "That amount of gold can put four boys through all ten years."
"That's what we'd hoped. And now we have a question for you, old friend."
"Yes?"
"Our top spy was sent to Merconton recently…."
Azimio's eyes got wide with terror. Even those who dealt death on a weekly basis were afraid to go to that fortress. "What on earth—"
"We'd rather not say. We have a strong stomach, but it disgusted even us. We were wondering if you had anyone you'd like to put forth for the position. No killing involved, just…information gathering."
Azimio smiled. "I have just the person. Walk with me, my lord."
Once the man had vacated the room, Carmine nodded again. "Archduchess," he said respectfully.
"Carmine," she said. "Have a seat." As annoyed as she was with the time this was taking up, the young man looked absolutely beat. The ride from her territory to Matt's was not an easy one. She poured two goblets of wine, and passed one to him. "You have news for me?" she asked coolly.
The tall, thick set black man nodded while taking a deep sip of wine. "Aye, my lady. Lord Rutherford is happy to report that the project was successful," he reported.
Santana bit her lip, trying not to grin, and smacked the desk a few times in absolute joy. "Fabulous. Details?"
"There were eight dragons born three days ago," Carmine said, dropping his voice. "Three of them did not make it, leaving five strong ones."
"M'lady! An eagle just came from Baron Karofsky! It says it's urgent."
Indeed, when she took it, she saw the dark red ink that signified a message of high importance. "Thank you. Stay a moment." Her eyes darted across the paper.
Santana,
I write urgently to inform you of a situation at the hold. The prisoners have staged an uprising, resulting in the deaths of three guards and the injury of another ten. I beg you to send reinforcements as soon as you can. We've managed to contain the situation, but I fear it is far from over. Thank you, my lady.
Baron David Ian Karofsky, Eighteenth of his Name.
An uprising? That hadn't happened in years! And there had already been deaths. "Nigel," she said sharply. "Summon the guards to the courtyard. Quickly, boy."
"Yes, m'lady!" he said, running off to his task.
Sugar pressed herself against the wall just outside the kitchen and listened to the servants' conversation. Her spot was perfect. If she was still, she could hear everything, and she was in a blind spot so she wouldn't be seen…
She had gotten turned around in the tunnels, but she figured that she'd just have to look in Santana's desk to find some proper blueprints, and she could do that later. For now, she had found this perfect little hiding spot, where she could hear everything perfectly.
"Can't believe the Lady has taken in that peasant…" she heard a young servant girl mutter to a friend as they walked by.
"None of that, Marie. I'm sure she'll be gone soon enough. It isn't possible for someone like the Baroness to keep her around much longer," came the reply before they were out of hearing range.
Moments later two older women approached, and Sugar kept as still as possible.
"The little tramp," whispered one tersely in a huff. "Flutters around without a care in the world, doesn't lift a finger for work! She best learn her place soon enough."
Then the two were gone as well.
The longer time went on, the more Sugar heard, and the angrier she became.
Not all of the servants were malicious, and a few, such as Cordelia, were openly pleased with the presence of Rachel. But many were doubtful at best, and a few had names for her sister that Sugar had only heard drunk men call the bar wenches before getting slapped… Grinding her teeth, little fists shaking, she decided she had best move on. If she heard anymore, she'd snap, and she needed to be able to come back with parchment and a charcoal.
The two person table was laid for a lavish noon meal. Kurt sat and poured two goblets of wine while he waited on the boy Azimio was fetching. He smiled, looking around fondly. This room was used for the upperclassmen's formal dining affairs. Only ever the upperclassmen. To someone who hadn't gone to the school, this would be hard to understand - the room looked no different than the other dining halls at first glance. But a second, closer look would show you all the little things meant to test the boys graduating from the academy. The little vials mixed in with the oil and vinegar shakers…the edges of the tables that dipped slightly, signifying something hidden there… the slats in the walls that looked like clever decoration, but were really for crossbows.
Gods, he missed this place sometimes.
"Your grace?"
Looking up, he smiled at Azimio and the boy. "Afternoon," he said, nodding to the chair across from him.
"Your…your grace," the boy said, bowing nervously. He was muscular, but the lean kind - obviously an athlete, but not one of the circus strongmen types. He walked over to the table, sidestepping a couple of times (because yes, those sinister looking tiles were sinister looking for a reason).
"And your name is?"
"Yaakov the Shadow, my lord."
There was a loud thump, and a panel in the side wall slid open, revealing Sugar.
Santana jumped and looked wildly around. "How...what on...how did you know about that passage?" she demanded.
"Not important," Sugar said, panting. "I need to talk to you."
A guard rushed in. "Everything alright, Baroness?"
"Fine, Jon. You may leave us. What is it, Sugar?" Santana asked, seriously concerned. The girl was looking at her with a mixture of anger and anxiety. In the little time she'd known the girl, those were not two traits she'd come to associate with her.
"You're leaving tomorrow."
"I could be, yes."
"And I'll be at the Corcoran School?"
"Yes. Learning to be a lady." Santana nearly laughed when Sugar scowled at her. "Which, I appreciate, is not an ambition of every member of our sex. However, you need a formal education, and this school is one of the best in the Lowlands."
"You're leaving Rachel here by herself!"
Something in the way Sugar said that, coupled with Nigel's behavior, and the fact that the kid apparently knew some quiet ways around the castle, spiked Santana's nerves. "Do you know something I should know?" she asked gently.
Sugar scoffed.
Santana grinned. Kid may be obnoxious, but the Baroness could always admire balls of steel.
"You're leaving her with a bunch of servants who hate her!" Sugar said. "We're commoners, Baroness, in case you've forgotten. She's a commoner just like them, but you've made it so they have to treat her like she's important."
"She is important."
If Sugar had rolled her eyes any harder, they would've fallen out. "Just...I won't be here to protect her. So make sure there's someone here who will." She marched out of the room, kicking Jon the Guard in the shins as she walked past.
Rachel walked quietly down the halls and found the kitchen. The maids' bustle stopped completely when she entered. "Ah…hello," she said meekly, barely resisting a flinch when they glowered at her. "I…just needed a cup of tea." She moved toward the tea cart, but stopped when she heard a snort. "I'm sorry…have I done something wrong?"
"Wrong?" one of them asked scathingly. "Not at all. Just surprised you haven't just ordered Cordelia to bring you some tea and biscuits."
"I don't order Cordelia to do anything, nor do I want to," Rachel said. She turned her back to them and poured her tea.
"Smart of you. Don' get used to this. Her grace takes on charity cases every now and then…don' think for even a mo' that this is anything else."
"And why should you care so much?" Rachel asked in a cool voice. "If that's all this is, you have no reason to care or whisper about me. Unless, of course, you think it's something different."
"Don't flatter yourself," another maid said. Rachel recognized her as Marie, one of the maids more vocal about her distaste of Rachel's presence at the manor. "You're nothing more than her whore of the moment."
Surprising even herself, Rachel turned and slapped the other girl. Marie lunged, pushing Rachel into the vegetable baskets and scattering carrots everywhere.
"What on earth is going on?"
Marie let go of Rachel's throat and stepped back as Cordelia and Master Lewis, the weapons master, swept into the kitchen. Rachel coughed a few times before straightening up with the help of the older woman.
"Have you lost your senses?" Cordelia snapped at the maids. "Nigel, a tray and follow me."
Rachel hadn't even noticed the boy standing in the doorway. She followed Cordelia out of the long room, shaking as they made their way back up to her room. She slumped on her bed when they got there.
Nigel came rushing in with a tea tray a moment later.
"Thank you," Cordelia said, taking it from him. "Go to, boy. Care for the hounds."
"Yes ma'am."
As soon as he left, Rachel let out a quiet sob.
"There, there, child," Cordelia said, taking her into her arms. "It will be okay."
Santana smiled as she looked over at the three former prisoners. They were huddled in quiet confusion on the Airship. She strode over to them and sat down. "I intend to make a new order in my Guard - a private order. The three of you will be the first to join."
"M'lady?" Gendry asked.
"The first thing we'll do when we get back is get you set up in your lodgings and outfitted. Then we'll have you legitimized under the House Lopez banner." She smiled at their incredulous faces. "You won't have my name, but you will have a name very important to our House - Navarro. Everyone in this new order will be like you - brought together under the Lopez banner. We will speak more when we get to the manor."
There were horns in the distance. Long, loud blasts that trumpeted out a specific tune. Bahm bahm bahm BAH DUH DUH, over and over.
"No…there's no way," Santana said, going to the window and nearly groaning.
"What is it? Who's coming?" Rachel asked, moving to stand next to her. She spotted a coach and Guards coming up the road. The two in front carried the banners of House Lopez. Santana didn't answer, but Rachel had a funny feeling.
"Come on," Santana said wearily, taking her hand.
The servants were already lining the halls, as if for inspection, and the Guards would be standing to attention in the courtyard. Santana and Rachel reached the main doors just as the coach pulled in through the gate.
Rachel moved to the left to stand next to Cordelia.
Santana looked at her, confused, for about half a second before remembering herself. She stood up straight and walked down the steps.
A tall, beautiful lady was being helped out of the carriage. She smiled and curtseyed to Santana. "Your grace," she said.
Santana gave a respectful bow, before rushing to hug her. "How are you?" she asked.
"You'd know better if you wrote to me more often," the taller woman said. She smiled fondly at Santana and ran a hand through her hair. "I shan't tax you with it, though. I know you've had other things to…occupy you."
Santana didn't miss the way her eyes flicked over her shoulder toward the top of the stairs. "Indeed. Come, I shall introduce you."
"Introductions? My…this is serious."
Santana huffed, but led the way up the stairs. "May I present," she said. "Miss Rachel Berry. Rachel, this is Lady Maribel Lopez…my mother."
Blaine waited until a page announced him, and then walked into the room. It was a relatively small room, with a deep red carpet leading up to a throne of Diamondwood and oak. Blaine stood before his father, and bowed. His normally gelled hair was loose that day, and he knew from the sympathetic titters of the small group around him that he was the spitting image of the king that day. He smiled slightly and waved a pinkie at Cooper, who was seated at his father's left side.
"My son!" his father boomed jovially. "What brings you at this hour? Have you not a meeting with the Lower Nobles quite soon?"
"In a bit, yes," Blaine said. "But I wanted to seek your opinion on a matter first."
"Yes, I'm listening."
"Baron Hudson wrote to me. He says there is some sort of malady that has befallen the Diamondwood forest. He's investigating, but I wanted your thoughts before I acted or wrote back."
King Darren frowned and scratched his chin. "Send a few of our best Theoretical Biomancers up there. You may use one of the Airships."
"Yes, Majesty."
"What is it, Yaakov?" Kurt asked, steering him into a chair.
"I was coming back and I stopped in Lorentium for a break. I had tied up my horse just outside of one of the baker's shops, and...I saw children. They looked half starved. Not on the street," he added, seeing Kurt about to speak. "They looked like urchins, but they were being kept in the basement of the utilities shop next door. Something felt wrong - in my heart."
Kurt didn't scoff. It was one of the first things you learned at the Assassin's School - sometimes you feel things in your stomach, but sometimes it's deeper. There's danger that you can feel straight down in your soul. "So you stayed."
"Aye, my lord. I took my horse to the Cooper Crocodile and rented a room. I lurked around nightfall and…." His face actually crumpled. "They're selling the children. Or something. A man I hadn't seen before brought a little girl out and loaded her into a coach. She'd been drugged."
"How do you know?"
"I...er...may have followed the coach and… using great surruptition...ah… kidnapped her from her kidnappers?"
Kurt kept his face blank.
"It's just that when I was following the coach, I could see him...well, I'd rather not repeat what he was beginning to do to the little one. I couldn't just…. She's safe at my mother's house for now. I...I hope I did what you would have done, my lord."
"No, Yaakov, you did not. Because if you had done as we would have, you would now be before the King for the crime of participating in brutal and unnecessary torture. As it is, you will receive a medal, and we will do our utmost to have you knighted. Muster my Dark Guards, will you?"
"Yes, my lord," Yaakov said, dashing from the room.
Shaking slightly, Kurt walked over to a locked wardrobe and, sliding a few panels around, opened it. There was only one outfit in there - a specially made suit and cloak that he hadn't worn for years. He took it down.
"Please explain your behavior," Santana said quietly.
"My lady, please! I didn't mean any harm!" Marie rushed out.
Santana held up a hand. "You struck Mistress Rachel. That seems to intend harm, does it not?"
The young woman was near tears now. "I am sorry, your grace! I was just so…"
"You were jealous. It is understandable. But what you did is inexcusable."
"Am I to be released from your service?" Marie asked, distraught.
"No. That would not solve the problem, which I understand is quite widespread. It would do you no good to lose your job, and me no good to lose a servant. But an example must be made." Santana watched her carefully, and saw a bit of fear come into Marie's eyes. "You will be made her personal lady in waiting."
Marie's mouth dropped open slightly. She closed it with a snap a moment later. "Your grace?" she finally managed to ask.
"The jealousy and blatant disrespect comes from a place of ignorance. You don't know Rachel, and thus you feel entitled to be disrespectful. But you will get to know her. You will attend her at formal functions, and travel with us when we must venture away from the manor. And I shall monitor your behavior closely. If there are any more incidents, then you will be released from my service. Is that understood?"
The girl sat in shock for a long moment. "Yes, your grace."
"Very well. You may see to your duties now."
After the woman had gone, Santana flopped back in her chair with a deep sigh. She hated being in charge sometimes. With a grunt, she sat up again and sorted through the day's mail. Mostly it was just news from around the kingdom - the other High Nobles kept in touch - but there were also a few letters from some of the lower nobles in her territory. One in particular, she took a keen interest in. Then her eyes fell on the letter Baron Hudson had delivered. It was in King Darren's handwriting. She opened it, and began to read….
"You sent for me, your grace?"
It was early the next morning, and Santana had taken breakfast in her office. She'd been turning Finn's letter over and over in her mind, and the more she thought about it, the more she worried. She'd have to help him, of course, and she had a feeling that she'd be taking a trip to The Huds very soon. But she needed something first - which was why she'd sent for her newest guard.
"Asa, come in. Sit," Santana said, indicating the chair across from her. "When I found you, you said you were apprenticed to a shoemaker, yes?"
"Yes, your grace."
She noticed how he still didn't meet her eye for extended lengths of time. Briefly, she wondered if there was any way to put him and his brother at ease, but decided not to dwell on it for the moment. "Did Baron Karofsky allow you to keep up with leathersmithing at all?"
"Only a bit, your grace. About two or three times a year we'd work on the lads' shoes, or help with armor for the guards."
"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. This," she said, unrolling a scroll on her desk, "is my armor. Regular hunting armor, not the battle outfit. I need a new design...something between this and a war suit."
Asa immediately leaned forward to look at the paper, but kept quiet.
"Heat resistant, if possible," Santana continued. "And I need to be able to bend and stretch."
"Aye, your grace. Mayhaps I could share this with my brother? He might have some ideas."
"Of course. Deakon - Master Graves - has cleared a space for you both in the workshop. I'll be taking Markus, Fellsworth, and Sy with me to the Uplands. I'd like to have something by the time I get back."
Asa gave her a genuine smile and a nod. "We'll do our best, your grace."
"I'm certain you will. I have a good friend down in the village of Hemlaine who is the best blacksmith I know. If you have need of anything specific, Deakon knows how to reach him. Go to, now."
"Archduchess," Corcoran said. "I do hope you'll forgive me -"
"No need to apologize. I understand," Santana said.
Rachel held out her hand to Sugar, who was looking dejected.
Sugar didn't move, but cast a worried look at the other girl.
"Let's go, Sugar," Rachel said. "I'm sure your friend -"
"Her family disowned her," Sugar blurted out. "She doesn't have anywhere to go."
"Miss Jones will be fine," Corcoran said cooly. "You should go with your sister."
Santana, who'd been standing back until this point, strode forward. "How long did it take for you to build the...er...contraption?"
"About an hour, m'lady."
"And how did you control it?"
"I...I'm not sure I understand, your grace."
"To steer it, I mean," Santana continued. She saw Rachel giving her a curious look out of the corner of her eye, and Sugar still looking worried. "The letter said the entire assembly hall was covered in glitter. How did you manage to steer it?"
"When you wind the gearing, you can crank it so that the wings change."
Santana stared at the girl for a long moment. "Headmistress? What is to become of Sugar's friend?"
In her years of ruling the Lowlands, Santana had gotten extremely good at pinpointing when people did not want to answer her questions. Moreover, she was an expert at spotting when people were about to lie to her. Thus, when the Headmistress took a deep inward breath and opened her mouth, she held up a hand.
"No, please don't tell me that you'll keep her here as a maid. I'm young, but I was not born yesterday. What is to become of her?"
"The Girls' Working School."
Everyone, except the Headmistress, cringed. It wasn't in the Lowlands, and thus Santana couldn't have it shut down. But she knew that girls were sent there, and that it wasn't a good place to be. Especially if your family had given up on you. Some girls went for a short stay, when food was short or to earn a few months wages to help a sick family member. Those girls, while not the happiest, made it out okay. But a girl on her own….
"No," Santana said. "I think not. We will take her with us. Are these your things?" she asked the girl.
"Yes, your grace," she said, bewildered but hopeful.
"Then come along. We'll find a place for you at the Manor. And perhaps you'll tell us your name?"
"Teagan, your grace."
Santana wandered back into the chilly corridor of the manor. As she wound her way through the halls, she took stock of everything. Sugar would go with them to the Uplands, but beyond that she had no idea what she would do with the girl. Teagan could be useful…. She wasn't sure about leaving the Manor when the girl had just moved in, but that couldn't be helped. And then there was the letter from Finn. If her intuition was working, then she'd be leaving soon after the feast. She might need Teagan's inventions, and the twins' new armor. With a sigh, she continued up the stairs to Rachel's quarters, pushing everything else from her mind. She paused, just outside of the room, when she heard the argument taking place inside.
"...can't just do whatever you want! I understand you may not be used to things there, but -"
"They all hate me! It's all snobby rich girls with their money and their empty heads."
"Sugar…."
"No! Listen! You're not the one who has to go there, and deal with them ordering you around because you're lowborn! You're not the one who has to put up with listening to them call her sister a whore and 'The Common Princess'. You're not the one who locked in cupboards - but at least Teagan showed me how to get out of those…."
There was silence, and then a tiny sound of movement, as if one had hugged the other.
"I'm sorry," Rachel said quietly.
That was it. No lecture, no qualifications...just an apology - as if Rachel had just now realized the position she and her sister were in. Santana certainly had, and she backed quietly away from the door. She'd let them have a moment. There were things she needed to think about.
Santana had been right - the Rutherfords knew how to throw a party. When they'd made it to the main hall, Fire Opals blazed on raised stands, giving the room a cheery glow. The Rutherford household, and surrounding lower nobles' families, had all gathered for a conjuring show. Rutherford's Mage, Techwyn, led the show, giving a spectacular history of the Rutherford House and the Uplands in shadows and lights and fire. As the guests of honor, Rachel, Sugar and Santana got to sit at the table with Matt and Keira. That was the other thing Santana had been right about - Keira and Rachel had become immediate friends. As the show progress, Keira would lean over and add bits of information for Rachel's benefit. After the show, she swept Rachel off to another part of the hall, introducing her to people along the way.
"You know you're going to have to keep a spare room made for Keira," Matt rumbled, grinning. "And I'm going to have to do the same for Rachel. They're going to be impossible, our ladies."
It wasn't hard to excuse themselves. Keira and Rachel were surrounded by a group of admirers, and anyway, Matt and Keira had marital telepathy down to a fine science. He waved and gave a sort of jerk of the head, and got a nod in response from Keira. With that, he led them through a small oak door and down a sloping southern hallway. It curved downhill, and Santana knew that they were underground and heading toward what used to be the Rutherford dungeons. Looking up, she could see the maze of wooden beams that made a sort of underground ceiling/storage space. As they descended, it got warmer, and warmer.
"Matt…" Santana whispered, but trailed off. In the quiet of the corridor, her voice sounded far too loud.
"They're here. And Christopher has mastered talking to them. We've even got one picked out for you," he said, grinning.
"Why does that worry m-"
She stopped talking, and walking, when they rounded the corner and came face to face with the Wyrms.
"Dragons?" Rachel asked.
"You didn't tell her?" Sugar asked the archduchess. She then launched into the unabridged version of how she had met Lord Hummel the night before. When she finished, she asked Santana again, "Can we see them?"
"Of course," Santana said, suppressing a groan. It wasn't that she didn't trust Rachel, but this was an under-the-table sort of operation.
When they returned to the castle, Sugar ran off with Lord Hummel and Lord Rutherford. Santana said they'd meet them, and she and Rachel went back to their chambers.
"So…" Rachel said. "Dragons."
"It's been an… er… an ongoing project. We haven't had much success until recently."
"I thought it was illegal to own them."
"Technically, yes," Santana said slowly. "The law actually specifies the types of dragons that aren't allowed. This is a new breed." And that was when Santana managed to name what she'd seen on Rachel's face earlier. It was just a smidgen of disapproval. "And I've spoken with Matt. We're planning to give one as a gift to the Kingdom of Vesh - the other kingdom in the agreement. We're hoping that soothes any riled tempers."
"I still don't like it."
Santana smirked and quirked an eyebrow at her.
"Don't look at me like that," Rachel grumbled.
"Like what? And I thought you liked animals."
"I do, but this could be dangerous for you."
"Well, I like a healthy dose of danger," Santana said. She held up a hand when Rachel began to protest. "Please, I don't wish to discuss this further. There are many aspects of this you just don't understand."
Rachel lost her glare then, and sighed. "As you wish."
And something about that response felt… wrong to Santana, but she couldn't pinpoint what. To cover her frustration, she asked, "Would you like to see them? I'm going down there now."
"I'll stay here, thanks."
Keira wanted to show Rachel the bird pens, so the two women went to the eastern side of the castle.
"Rutherford Hawks," Keira said, leading Rachel through the warm room. "There's only about ten, but we love them."
"They're all very handsome."
"This one's mine," Keira said, holding up a glove-covered arm. The hawk climbed onto her arm immediately. "His name is Azreal. I wanted you to meet him now so you'd recognize him when I send you letters."
Rachel smiled brightly. "A sound plan. You're really going to write?" she asked shyly.
"Of course." She paused for a moment and put the bird back on his perch. "How are you?" she asked quietly, turning to look at Rachel.
Rachel knew what she was asking. She also knew that Keira had brought her out to the bird pen to ask, not just to introduce her to her hawk. "I'm okay."
"Are you really?" Keira probed. "We're alone now. And...I understand what you're going through more than you might know."
"What do you mean?"
"I was… well, you know the ranks of nobility in the kingdom, yes?"
"Yes."
"The lowest of the noble titles is Esquire, which is what my father had. Unless you're a part of a High Noble's household, that title is just an honorific, not an actual claim to anything. It's also the only title that does not pass to your children. For all intents and purposes, I'm Common-born. I never grew up in a manor or a castle. I didn't learn sword drill or kingdom history in school. I was a regular girl, with just a slight bit more food on the table. And then I turned fifteen, and my father called me into the kitchen to tell me some man named Matteo had his eye on me, and I was to go and live with him." She smiled and linked arms with Rachel, beginning to walk back to the outer chamber of the pen. "The point is, I understand what this must be like for you. People always say, 'Well, she has a choice. She doesn't have to stay...' but that's wrong. Some of us a thrust into things we could never have imagined and totally beyond our control. But look at me," she stopped and turned to face Rachel. "I'm proof that it can turn out for the best. And no matter what happens, you have a friend in me."
"Th-thank you," Rachel whispered, tearing up a bit. She relaxed when Keira hugged her.
Teagan needed a place to test out her newest invention. Santana hadn't ordered this one, but the girl had a feeling the archduchess would be pleased. If it worked of course. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten to this particular balcony, but no one had stopped her coming up here. Hopefully it wasn't off limits. She wound the gears on the tiny box and chucked it off the deck. It plummeted a few fee before the tiny propeller sprouted out and it returned to her, whirring softly. With a smile, she tucked the prototype back into her jacket and turned to go.
"This one is bright, my dear Crowley."
"Indeed Edgar. I think I like her."
Teagan looked around widely, trying to see where the voice had come from. When she didn't see anyone or anything, she looked up. There was another sort of balcony up above her, but she didn't know how to get to it. The stairs had ended on this landing. Unperturbed, she simply climbed the side of the wall. One of the many good things about the Manor was that it was easily climbable. No sheer facades here, no indeed. She pulled up onto the smaller outcrop and came face to face with two stone grotesques. She'd remembered being able to see them faintly from the stable yard. She also spied a trap door on the ground between them. She walked over, convinced that she'd just been hearing things, and got the shock of her life.
"The human thinks of ways around her problems, Crowley," one of them said, rumbling to life.
It was just as well that she'd walked over from the edge. It would have been a long fall if she'd dropped off...
"Oh, now you've done it you old lump of granite!" The other snapped at his companion. "You e frightened the poor girl!"
Teagan looked from one to the other. Both had their large stone heads turned to look at her. Without another thought, she kicked the trapdoor down, scrambled down the ladder (nearly breaking her ankle in the process) and sprinted back to the workshop.
Asa was there taking a few test swings at the new armor they'd built. He grinned at her when she skidded to a stop in front of her. "Where's the fire, Tea Time?" He asked. He and Gendry had nicknamed her that almost immediately.
She ignored it this time, trying to pant out what she just saw. "There's... In the east wing... Big statues... Alive, and they talk..."
Asa steered here into a chair and handed her a water jug. "Let's have that again, but mayhap with the gaps filled in."
She guzzled the water, and then told him about Edgar and Crowley.
He stared at her for a moment and then squeezed her should. "I reckon you need a nap."
"Morning," Santana said, leaning down for a kiss. She pulled away just slightly.
"What is it?" Rachel whispered.
"I'm glad you had a good time," Santana said. "I hate to drag you away from your new best friend," she added with a smile.
"I think Keira and I will survive. There's always mail. But… something else is up. You have your serious face on."
"When we go back… I may have to leave again."
"Is it Finn?" Rachel asked quietly.
"Yes. I'm not sure about everything right now. But I promise I won't leave you in the dark over it. I'll let you know as much as I can."
Rachel nodded. "Do you think you'll have to leave? Really?"
"There's something wrong in the Diamondwood Forest. I think I may."
"Will your mother come back? To lead everything while you're away?"
"No. She has to stay to see to council matters. Baron Karofsky will come to the Manor. You'll like him - he's quite fun."
Rachel nodded, absentmindedly drawing circles on Santana's hip. "Will you be gone long?"
"I hope not."
Bells rang in the distance, signalling the start of the working day in the town. Santana kissed Rachel again and sat up.
"I believe that's our cue to head back. Come… I know you'll want to have breakfast with Sugar before we all leave. I've arranged to keep Kurt and Matt busy to give you two some privacy."
"You think of everything, my lady."
The morning rushed by in great dollops, so that one moment Rachel was getting dressed, and then she was finishing breakfast, and before she could figure out where the time had gone, they were all packed up and ready to head back.
Kurt had ordered an Airship to fetch them from the Uplands, and he stood respectfully to one side while the two sisters said goodbye.
"Please, be good," Rachel said as she hugged Sugar tightly.
"I promise. Take care of yourself."
Sugar, Rachel thought, looked older at that moment. More mature. She kissed her on the forehead and watched as she boarded the ship with Kurt. The dragon on board shrieked from its cage as they took off into the sky.
A hand came to rest on Rachel's shoulder. It was Lord Rutherford.
"She'll be okay," he said.
Rachel nodded. "I hope so."
"I don't understand that at all," Santana huffed. "It's a beast just like any other. The boy's –"
"It's not," Rachel interrupted. She looked around to make sure they were alone before addressing the older woman informally. "Santana, you think of Wyndbain as just another animal, because you've grown up with…well, everything. You've been places and seen creatures that Nigel can only dream of. People like him, people like me," she stressed, knowing that Santana understood what she was getting at, "We grew up thinking of them as monsters. That story about your ancestor? Duke Ezio? Duke Ezio's Dragons is a fairytale for us, but for you it's history. You see this as a proud moment for your house, and it is. It really is. But that story only says that Lopez Manor still stood after the dragons' battle. Us peasants know that our world was burned to the ground."
Santana was quiet for a moment, chewing her salmon slowly. She took a sip of wine. "I hadn't thought of it quite like that."
"I'm sure he'll adjust," Rachel said.
"Of course. He's a good lad. Speaking of good lads," Santana said, grinning. "Tomorrow is going to be busy, but I hear tell that Asa, Gendry and Teagan have been extremely busy. We should see what they've been up to."
"I don't see why they have to be sent to Merconton!" Rachel protested.
Cynara and her men had made it back, no casualties, with the raiders that morning while Santana was hearing petitions. As always, Santana had sentenced the raiders to the maximum penalty hold in the Eastern Range. That had bothered Rachel no end, but she'd known better than to question the woman while the nobles were there.
"Rachel, I have no patience for -"
"I know," Rachel cut in. "And I understand why you feel that way. But have you ever stopped to wonder why they're doing this?"
"Yes, and I can't understand it."
"So that's it? You just pack them off to hell on earth and hope that solves the problem?"
"I'm open to any better suggestions," Santana said, oozing sarcasm.
Rachel, however, wasn't backing down. "There has to be a better solution. Couldn't you -"
"Rachel, I'm finished discussing this."
The younger woman threw up her hands in exasperation. "Of course you are. You're way is always right, even when it's clearly not working."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Santana yelled.
"That means that if sending raiders to the most dangerous, most grueling jail in the kingdom actually did any good - there wouldn't be any more raiders, would there?"
Santana opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again, and then realized that Rachel...sort of had a point. But she'd be damned if she admitted it - especially when a better solution was not forthcoming. She settled for repeating her earlier directive. "I'm finished discussing this."
"Fine," Rachel huffed, fully ready to storm out.
Santana was a little incensed. Okay, she was completely vexed. "I'm not going to ask your permission every time I have to make a decision for my lands, Rachel!"
"I know that. Because you only treat me like an equal when it's convenient for you."
"What?"
"You heard me. When you're trying to convince me to stay - to convince yourself that this isn't some sort of hostage situation -"
"Are you saying it is?" Santana snapped.
"No. I meant what I said last night. I love it here - I don't feel trapped at all. But half of the time you treat me like I'm your…." Rachel trailed off, unable to say it. "You give me information - you teach me about how you rule - like you want me to know what's going on, but you pull away the moment I question you."
A chilled silence filled the room.
"I suppose, since you want to be in the loop, that I should tell you that I'm leaving for the Huds tomorrow," Santana said icily.
And that took all the fire out of Rachel. "What?"
"Baron Hudson is going on an expedition to find what's killing his Diamondwood trees. He requested my help. I'm leaving tomorrow. Right now, I have things to attend to. I'm sure you can manage without me for a while."
High Winter made itself known the following day. Rachel had woken up shivering, partially from the chill in the Manor, but mostly because she was alone in her own chambers. The Lowlands were far enough south that they didn't get too much snow, but the day was overcast and windy as the small travel party assembled in the western plaza. Baron Karofsky spoke softly to Santana, before she moved along the line, assigning everyone their duties. She stopped when she got to Rachel and wrapped her arms around her.
"Please...don't send me off with you still cross with me," she said quietly, kissing Rachel.
"I'm not cross," Rachel whispered. "I'm...frightened for you."
Santana pulled back slightly and nodded. "I… I understand. But I must go. I'm sure Baron Hudson will look after me, and I'll be back in no time at all. In the meantime, I'm sure Master St. James has left you some things to be getting on with. And I know that Lord Karofsky will be eager to get to know you."
Rachel looked over at the man. She doubted it. He'd been polite, but distant during the brief meeting after breakfast. "Will you…. Just one thing before you go?"
"What would that be, songbird?"
"Take Gavin with you?" Rachel saw the Baroness about to protest and hurried on. "I know you don't...carry the same level of affection for them as I do. But he's a hunter - and he's smart. He might be useful."
Santana stared at her for a long moment, and then nodded. "Nigel - bring Gavin to me," she called. Then she turned back to Rachel. "I shall miss you." With one last small kiss, she turned and made her way up the Airship ladder. Gavin was sent up on the cargo lift after her. It was a few moments before the Airship rumbled to life. As it lifted into the air, Santana waved from the deck.
There wasn't a huge hubbub of activity after the Airship was out of sight. Instead, people just sort of dispersed into different directions, leaving Rachel and Baron Karofsky standing there. He bowed slightly to her.
"I must hear petitions now," he said. "But I hoped that we might have supper together?"
"Of course, my lord."
For the first time that morning, there was a ghost of a smile on the noble's face. "Good. Wonderful. Thank you."
Bear steak with cherries, root vegetables, bread, and mead were passed around as the team got acquainted. The servants also brought in two steaming pies, and by the time all of this had been consumed, no one was in the mood to talk about dark deeds and their coming quest. Still, the work had to be done.
"Tell us the worst, then," Santana said, giving Finn an encouraging smile.
"There are still some facts that we don't know," Finn admitted. "But I believe we have enough to go on. The Diamondwoods are being killed by dark magic, and there's a sorcerer or sorceress behind it." He nodded sadly as Santana's eyes went wide. "All of the Biomancers sent by Prince Blaine came away with the same conclusion. They were worried when the trees started dying so rapidly, but when their protection spells didn't work, well…. There was only that explanation left. This means we must go east. If the magic cannot be reversed by our work, and the trees cannot be protected -"
"Then we'll have to kill the sorcerer," Santana concluded.
"It must be so," Finn said.
Arlen cleared his throat. "If I may, your graces? This...strength of magic is not some disgruntled failed wizard. This is not a Mage testing their strength. This is deliberate - and I fear that if we don't address the situation, more than simply our Diamondwoods will be in grave danger. We've been lucky, truly. That part of the forest is unpopulated - otherwise, we may have had fatalities on our hands already."
Finn looked over at Santana, and she could see both fear and determination in his eyes.
"When do we leave?" she asked.
A cool, quiet night had fallen across the Lowlands. Rachel buried her face in her pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of her crying. She wasn't sure what it was – the stares she'd endured when Asa had taken her into the city, the letter she'd received from Sugar, or just the overwhelming sense of aloneness. But after her bath, she'd picked up her book to read, and had gotten three sentences in when the tears had started. And they hadn't stopped.
A gentle hand caressed her hair.
"Please don't cry, madame," Marie said quietly.
In her distress, Rachel hadn't even heard her come in. "M-Marie?"
"It will be alright. Her grace cares for you – she'll be back soon, and you won't have to worry any longer."
"Unless she meets another damsel in distress in her travels," Rachel said with a tiny, mirthless laugh.
"I've worked for House Lopez since I was ten, and I've learned that Cordelia is never wrong," Marie said, rubbing Rachel's back. "When she says she's never seen the Archduchess like this, she means it. Please, don't be troubled. I…I'm sorry, for the things I've said. For the things others have said. You have nothing to fear, I'm sure."
"I just…miss her. I miss my family."
Marie nodded and pulled the settee over next to the bed. "I understand. I miss my family too sometimes. But at least they're just in the city. I can visit them on my days off."
"Are you from Angelione?"
"Yes. My father and mother own a bakery there."
"Tell me more about your family."
Rachel wasn't sure how long they talked, or when she fell asleep. But when she woke up, the sun was shining into the room, and she spotted Marie asleep on the settee next to her bed. The girl could have gone back to her room, but she'd stayed with Rachel through the night.
The Day of Courage was nowhere near as beautiful as its name. The eighth day of the month dawned cloudy, cold, and with a fine mist that was working its way into their bones.
"It's the sea," Sy mused. "We're only a few miles off the coast, now. Makes the air wet and cold. Colder," he corrected himself, pulling his cloak fast around him.
They were here now, standing just in front of the castle entrance. And indeed, the sea could be heard and smelled from there. Of course, the smell was masked by the overpowering perfume of the roses that made up the staircase to the castle. But it wasn't quite as beautiful as it should have been. The roses were all in various stages of decay. The smell rising from them was the normal one of the flowers, mixed with something… rotten. The dogs whined and pulled at their leads.
"Alright," Finn said finally. "Only come in if you hear screaming. Us screaming," he added.
"Sire –" Arlen began, but Mandeville broke in.
Mandeville wasn't like Porter. He was just as good-natured, but he was also older, solemner, and doubly protective of Finn. Which made it okay when he said, "You're a bloody fool if you think we're letting you and her grace walk in there alone."
"To be fair, I was going to take the dogs," Finn countered.
"All of us, your grace," Markus said to Santana. "We may not have time to get to you if we hear you in distress. We don't even know for sure if this path will stay open for us once you go in."
The wisdom of that was inescapable, so, shouldering their weapons, they made their way up the path. Santana's battle instincts took over immediately, and she held her sword a little higher. She glanced around as they climbed. There were thorny vines that stretched and crept and… were they moving with them?
"Finn," she murmured. "The vines."
"I know," he said, gripping his Morningstar tighter.
They pushed open the great emerald doors and were faced with a castle that looked a lot smaller than it had from the outside. The group spread out in the foyer, and took in their surroundings. The walls seemed to be made of carved emeralds and rubies, and just like the vines outside, they seemed to be alive.
Santana dove forward, managing to slice the Sorceress's leg. She could see where Finn's Morningstar had grazed the woman's side.
The war hammer came back, and this time Santana didn't move in time. It smashed into her stomach, taking all the wind out of her and cracking a few ribs. She resolved to knight Asa and Gendry if she ever got out of this – if she hadn't been wearing their armor, the blow surely would have killed her. Sue stood above her, holding the hammer ready to strike again.
Santana struck first, ignoring the sickening, nearly blinding pain to stick her sword straight into the Sorceress's stomach. She fell back, gasping and worried that it wouldn't be enough, but saw a ray of hope in the form of Finn Hudson's Morningstar, coming through the air to smash the Sorceress's head in. Santana covered her face just in time to avoid blood and brain matter that splattered through the air a moment later.
The two injuries were enough. The Sorceress fell on the steps, the brambles disappeared, and the enchanted weapons clattered and clanged to the floor. There was a great shift, as if the castle itself had sighed.
Finn knelt next to Santana. "Are you okay? What hurts?"
"Cracked ribs," she said through gritted teeth. "Go get her – the girl. I'll be fine."
Arlen was there a moment later, pulling two vials out of his pouch. "Drink these, your grace. You'll be able to walk until we're out of here."
Finn came down, carrying the young blonde in his arms. She looked emaciated, and the concern showed on his face. "What if she –"
The castle rocked.
"What was that?"
The bars disintegrated from the cells. Which presented a problem, because the Chimera came slinking out of its cell. Mandeville, Sy and Markus all readied their weapons, while Porter stood protectively in front of Arlen, Finn and Santana.
"No," came a weak whisper from the girl in Finn's arms. "No, please, don't hurt him. He's good." That was all she got out before she passed out again. Luckily, the beast proved her point by gently licking Mandeville's face.
The castle rocked again.
"What is that?" Santana asked, struggling to her feet.
The dogs bolted halfway down the stairs, followed by the Chimera. All three beasts looked back, as if to say, "Let's get a damn move on."
The castle rocked again, and Arlen's face fell.
"Magical decay," he said, hollowly. "The castle was the Sorceress's creature. We have to go!"
They ran, Finn carrying the girl and Santana hobbling along until Markus said, "Forgive me, your grace," and picked her up to piggyback carry her the rest of the way down the stairs and out of the castle. The bridge of briars and dead roses was gone, but luckily a normal one remained. They made it across just as the first tower fell in a shower of roses and purple smoke. The group didn't stop to watch, but made haste as far as they could, until they heard the boom that signaled the final end of the castle, and of the Sorceress.
They turned around just as a gust of raw magic tore out from the destruction site, and bowled them all over. It fanned out and smacked into the trees.
Finn, on the ground in a hunch so that his body shielded the unconscious girl, looked up and smiled. "The trees!" he said. "Look! They're better!"
Santana rolled over gently and looked up. She flopped back down, exhausted, a moment later. "Good. I would've been pissed if all that was for nothing."
Finn gave an exhausted chuckle and nodded. "Aye."
"I think...I think I know what's going on," he said slowly. "Um...and I think, to be fair, the only reason you haven't gotten it yet, is because no one's told you."
"Thanks for calling me simple," Santana grunted.
"No," Finn said, laughing. "Not like that. It's like when you're out hunting and a bird shits on you. You might not notice until one of your men says something, because you're in hunting mode, so to speak. You're focused on one specific thing and you can't make your mind process distractions."
"You're saying Rachel is a distraction?"
"I'm saying you've been treating her like one," Finn said gently. "I'm the last person to preach to you on how to treat a lady, especially Rachel, but I think it's just been fun for you so far, yes?"
Santana gave a noncommittal shrug.
Finn plunged on. "You know about Forma?"
Santana nodded, taking another bite of cake. Every highborn child learned the building blocks of magic - Forma - when they were young. Some went on to become wizards at the university, but most just tucked it away as a bit of a party trick. Magic was something internal, but to learn it, you had to be able to visualize it. Young children had particularly flexible imaginations, and thus were able to come up with basic spells through visual and motion-based means.
Finn held out his hand. A tiny light in the shape of a sun appeared. "What's yours?"
Santana held out her hand. Even though she didn't practice, light was easy enough to summon. It was in the shape of a keyhole. "So what?"
"This," Finn said, nodding to the lights, "is enough for us. But think about if we were born Magi, like Arlen. This type of magic would never be enough for him. All his power would get all gummed up inside him, and he'd explode. Literally - he told me once that's what happens to Magi who aren't allowed to let their craft free. Point is -" he hurried on, seeing her about to interrupt. "What you have with Rachel is your magic. You've got to let it loose. You've been treating her like Forma, but she wants to be more. She needs to be more, Santana."
Snow gave way to mists and fog as they flew over the Uplands. The mists gave way to the calm warmth of the Lowlands, and finally, they were landing. Santana could hear the trumpets heralding their approach. Even Gavin was mad with excitement, chasing his tail and snapping at passing butterflies as they descended.
The crew thanked the captain and quickly disembarked.
In the courtyard waiting were Baron Karofsky, his men, and all the servants, but Santana's eyes found the one person she needed to see more than anyone, and she rushed forward to sweep Rachel up into her arms. She kissed her, not giving a single damn about decorum, and rested her forehead against the younger woman's.
"I've missed you."
Quinn opened her eyes and struggled to see in the darkness. Everyone had been unfailingly kind to her since she'd been here. The Prince himself had visited twice. The hospital at the Grand College was...well, it was luxurious. She had a suite to herself, and the doctors made sure she had everything she wanted. A few of the professors had stopped by to discuss her magic, and what she wanted to study. Really there was only one drawback.
She couldn't leave.
The doctors wanted to study the effects of Dark Magic leaving the human body, and here was their chance. So as long as she was in recovery, she had to stay here. That would be another week at least.
She heard someone close the door quietly behind them. "Who's -"
"Shhh! It's me."
Quinn relaxed, and smiled. She had the same visitor every night, though she'd yet to match him to a face during the day. She sat up and, as she had for the past two nights, took the cup he offered her. It was an extra dose of the medicine they gave her, and it was helping her heal quicker. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered.
There was nothing but stillness for a moment. Then he spoke.
"I know what it's like to be confined to one space. I wouldn't want to be cooped up in here. And here - I brought it from the cafeteria."
Quinn squinted at the soft disc he'd placed in her hand. A sugar cookie. "Thank you."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"What's your name?" she asked.
Again, silence. And then,
"Sam."
Up in the gallery, Santana and Blaine sat in front of the King and Queen. Santana was beaming, and the prince had a very knowing smile on his face. He nudged her as the song continued.
"Huh?" Santana said, snapping out of her daze.
"She makes you happy."
Santana smiled at him. "She does."
"I want you to be happy."
"But?"
He looked at her. "She's 23 years old, Santana," he whispered. "If you're not going to marry her… listen… I get it, I do. But you have to think of her too. You have to figure it out. She could still make an advantageous marriage, and of course she has her career. I'm not going to tell you what to do, but do think on it."
"Of course," Santana sighed, sitting back in her seat. "I will...think about it, that is."
Santana seemed to steel herself and said, "Please, sit." She led the way to a nearby bench and took a deep breath. "Rachel… I've been told before that I'm far too young to rule. I've been told that I'm too young to lead, or to know what's best for myself or my people. But I've never believed that. I've always known what I've wanted...until last year. When I found you, I meant to keep you safe. In truth, I meant to keep you close, but I was… I was lost," Santana admitted. "I didn't know then what I've come to realize - which is just how amazing you are, and how much you mean to me."
Rachel's mouth fell open slightly as Santana - Baroness, Archduchess, ruler of the Lowlands - dropped to one knee.
"I know now that I don't want to waste another moment of my youth without you by my side," Santana said, voice soft in the quiet of the garden. "I'm young, but not getting any younger. When I think of the ruler I want to be, now, all I can picture is you next to me as my strength and comfort - which is what you've been this past year, though I know it wasn't easy for you. You are the most incredible person I've known. You challenge me, you make me see things as they are. I know I'm better when I'm with you." She pulled a small box from her pocket, and opened it, revealing a ring with a ruby in the center, surrounded by diamonds. "And I would be honored, overjoyed, if you would agree to be my wife."
"Lord Hummel," Prince Blaine said in a voice that carried across the quiet field. "For valor on the jousting field, I award you this medal, as the highest honor for this day's games."
"Thank you, Highness," Kurt said as the crowd roared their cheers.
The horns blasted again, and the audience swarmed to the field. The jousting blocks had been moved, and the trampled mud was covered now by a wooden platform. Now that Kurt had gotten over the shock of seeing the prince dressed as one of Santana's servants, he'd found his tongue again.
"Would you Highness honor us with a dance?" he asked smoothly.
Prince Blaine actually looked surprised, but pleased. "Of...of course," he said, blushing in the dwindling light.
"My lord," King Darren said, nodding.
Kurt bowed low to them. "Thank you for seeing me, Majesties."
"Of course. You said you had a request."
"Erm...yes. Or, possibly not a request, but…." Kurt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "I'd like your permission to court Prince Blaine."
There. It was out in the universe. And both the king and queen looked thrilled.
King Darren looked over at his wife, with a sly smile. "What say you, my darling?"
Queen Sophia nodded once at him, trying to hide how pleased she was.
"Fine then. You have our permission. And do make sure he actually enjoys himself at the festival. He's far too serious."
Kurt beamed. "Thank you, Majesties!"
"Go to, lad. There's supposed to be a dance on. You can hardly court my son standing around here."
"I, Prince Cooper Augustin Anderson, do hereby validate this marriage on behalf of King Darren the Second. By the power vested in me, I hereby declare you Lady Rachel Marie Berry, Duchess of Angelion, and Countess of Hemlaine. Do I get to do it?" he asked Bishop Marquez. Receiving a nod, he said, "You may kiss the bride!"
Applause broke out as Santana swept Rachel up into a kiss.
In the corner, the men spoke in whispers.
"It's an insult," said one. "And I'm not the only one who thinks it. Lord -"
"Hush, lad," said a gruff voice. "Best not to speak too boldly there. We all know who shares our feelings about the new Duchess."
"The question," said a third, smoother voice, "now becomes… what do we intend to do about her?"
A raucous round of laughter from the other side of the pub made them pause.
The fourth man, who until now had stayed silent, spoke up. "For the time being...perhaps we should do nothing. I don't think the girl will prove to be anything more than a distraction for the Archduchess. Perhaps even a welcome one, if we play the game right."
"She's an insult," said the smooth voice, agreeing with the first. "What sort of High House muddles their bloodline with commoners? It's a disgrace to the whole land. And further, in case you've forgotten, Santana is in line for the throne."
There was silence at this.
"If the rumors coming out of the capital are true," the gruff voice grunted, "It seems that King Darren may go to the Far Fields sooner than we'd like. And his son is…." He trailed off, and spat on the floor. "Prince Blaine," he sneered. "Far too much like Santana. Far too invested in matters of peasants and lowborn. We have to protect our interests, after all. If the king dies, and something were to happen to the heir in a year or two…. Santana would take the throne. The first Lopez in history to hold it in their own right rather than a regency. Any half-low bastards she has with the singing wench would be above all of us. I agree… waiting may not be prudent."
The first voice sighed. "I must visit a few people. I think we may have options, but we shall need to meet again."
"The first day of High Winter. And we cannot meet here again."
"To travel too far outside our own...areas, even in secret, would attract comment."
"I come and go freely," the smooth voice said. "We," he nodded at the first voice. "Shall meet in Ugontir. The mountains are free enough from meddlesome people. I shall travel to each of you in turn to report."
Santana made her way through the short stack of letters. Luckily, they were mostly reports that didn't require response. She got to the last and paused. It had no return stamp, no seal of ownership. That was curious, as were the paper and ink. She didn't recognize the make. Carefully, she opened it and read the clean, bold script.
We denounce your recent marriage, and hold you in contempt. Divorce the singing wench by Year's Feast, or we will take matters into our own hands. She will burn from the inside out, and you will have lost your lands.
"Santana?" Rachel said, waking up. "What is that?"
Santana had never heard this bell before in her life, but she knew what it was. "High Ones… gods, no…."
"Love," Rachel said, now fully awake. "Wait...that's the lowest bell I've ever heard. Is that… is that the Tsarist?" she asked, turning wide eyes to her wife. A look was all it took. "No…."
"King Darren is dead."
"Place your hand on the Holy Word, your majesty," he said.
Blaine did so.
"When you are ready, state your vows."
"I, Blaine Darren Chris Anderson, First of My Name, do hereby assume the rights and responsibilities of my bloodline. I swear before the High Ones that I will be just and true, and that I will work to make this land prosper, as my...forefathers did before me. I come before you today in true faith, and assume my right as King of the Seven Realms."
"Kneel, my king," the bishop said. When Blaine did, he reverently removed the Crown of the Seven Realms (worn by the heir apparent), and replaced it with the Crown of the King.
Blaine rose to a cheer from the crowd.
"All hail, King Blaine the First!"
Blaine couldn't see them, but he knew Santana and Kurt were watching. And he knew, somewhere in the Far Fields, his father was watching too. He stood a little taller.
"Take a few more bites," Santana said, nodding to Blaine's plate.
He smirked. "I'm king now. You can't order me about anymore."
Santana rolled her eyes as Kurt snorted.
"It's gone to his head already," Kurt said.
A knock at the door came, and Pagan entered.
"Sorry to disturb you," he said. "But this just came from the Lowlands by albatross. It has 'urgent' written on it."
Santana stood quickly, and took it. "It's from Rachel." She unrolled the scroll and read:
Evening, my love,
I hope you and King Blaine are well. I know you were worried about me, so I thought I'd write with an update. Ridcully ran a lot of tests this morning, and he's found the issue. I'm not sick at all. I'm pregnant. I love you, and I'll see you when you return.
~RL
"Santana?" Blaine asked.
She heard him, but it seemed that his voice was coming from a long way away.
"Santana?" Blaine repeated.
Santana fainted.