I have returned, kind of, not really. Eitherwho, here, have this chapter of this random story.
This is obviously AU. It is set in a military era, with Brittany and Sam being officers of one fictional nation, Araw, which is similar to England, and Santana being the officer of another, Tenebra, similar to Spain. I know that there are some backstory details that one needs to have to read this, but I'm lazy and don't want to spell it out for you. Therefore, I'll let you guys' imagination run wild. Take your guesses.
Next chapter will be a continuation of this one, and the one after it will be too, I think.
Hope you liked it. Feel free to leave criticism, I know there are things I could fix.
The party was in full swing when Sam and Brittany arrived.
Brittany passed her eyes over the décor of the hall, uninterested in its sophistication. The people of the hall, however, caught her eyes. Nearly everyone was wearing dress uniforms of her own military. Surprisingly still, there were even some who were wearing the midnight blue color of Tenebran military. Not many, but there were some smatters of the color in the blanket of cream-colored jackets and pants.
She spoke sideways to Sam, her eyes still on the people.
"You did not tell me this was a military affiliated party."
Sam grins in what Brittany thinks is suppose to be cutely apologetic, but it comes out goofy. "I thought you would be pleased, or at least more comfortable in this crowd."
Brittany opened her mouth to respond, but a voice cuts her off.
"Well, well. Lieutenant Peirce."
That voice. Golden honey to her ears, that voice. Haunted her dreams for the past several years, that voice. She knew that voice. She did not dare believe it, though. Not yet. Not until—
She was wearing the midnight blue dress uniform of the Tenebran military. Her rapier hung on her hip in a show scabbard incrusted in gold and decorated with gleaming red rubies and blue sapphires. She was obviously not short on money.
The years had treated her well. Her skin was a bit more weather-beaten than the last time they had met, and there was a glaring fresh scar on her left brow, but her eyes still retained that spark of laughter and zest, and her mouth still smirked in that self-righteous yet coldly aloof way.
She carried a pair of white, silk gloves intended for dancing.
It stroke Brittany with a bit of surprise that she was obviously here as someone's invited guest.
"Madam Lopez!" Brittany carefully made her voice pleasantly shocked instead of desperately happy. "What a surprise. What on Earth are you doing here?"
"Nothing nefarious, I do assure you." Santana Lopez responded, rather dryly. She raised her scarred brow for a split second, but then her face became the mask of pleasantry once more as she grinned at Brittany. "It is a wonderful surprise to see you as well. I do believe the fates have come through this time around. And here I was, about to lose faith in them." she chuckled, almost to herself. "Either way, I suppose you are more surprised than myself, seeing me on Arawan soil, no?" she raised that wounded brow once more, and Brittany almost blurts a question on the scar's origin before stopping herself.
She nodded wordlessly.
"Yes, well, I have an aunt—a great-aunt, actually, who resides not far from here. As you know, marriage between Tenebran and Arawan families are not rare in times of peace. And the times of peace have graciously been restored." Lopez smiles disarmingly before taking a long sip from the flute of wine she is holding. "Wonderful thing it is—peace." she continues. "It allows gentlewomen to act in gentlewomanly ways towards each other. Now tell me, who is this fine young man that has so patiently been listening to my rambling?"
Fine young... oh.
Brittany had completely forgotten about Sam, who still occupied her left arm. She gestured to the air between him and Lopez.
"Sam, this is Madam Colonel Lopez. Madam Lopez, this is a good friend of mine from flight school, Sam."
Lopez's smile was absolutely ingratiating as she shook hands with Sam, who's revulsion was poorly disguised as his eyes landed on the rank insignia above her breast.
Brittany had also been astonished when she'd seen it. The last time her and Lopez met, Lopez's rank was that of Commander. Somehow, she had jumped two ranks in three years. Three years of peace, no less! Rank advancement in times of peace was difficult to come by. Nearly impossible.
A glass of wine being pushed at her broke Brittany's internal musing. She took it with a small smile at Sam just as Lopez raised her own glass and toasted.
"I propose a toast, to civilization. A wonderful thing it is indeed." her voice, so charmingly gallant, broke through the polite rumble of conversation in the hall easily, and heads turned to her, glasses going up cheerfully with smatters of "to civilization!" echoing through the hall.
Blankly, Brittany observed. Lopez had a lot of guts, addressing a room full of soldiers who were mostly enemies of her own military, and proposing a toast when she was only a guest at a party, not the host. Amazing enough still, everyone was more than happy to let her get away with it, whether it was because she was just that charming or because the ale in the room was too flowing, Brittany had no idea. She drank her own wine humbly.
Lopez turned back to them, her smile triumphant and even more elated than before. "To civilization, friends." she said privately, before draining her glass.
They stood there for a while, exchanging pleasantries and talking about politics—the amazing fact that was three years of peace between their respective countries and the rumors that the two rulers of their countries were actually sisters—before their somewhat strained conversation was broken up by a fair-headed young girl, who tugged on Lopez's sleeve.
"Heather wonders if you wish to join her at whist." the girl's eyes find Brittany and Sam, "Oh! My apologies!" she bows quickly, red in the face and eyeing their white uniforms.
"Whist, huh? Would you two care to join?" Lopez is still facing the girl, but she arches a brow in Brittany and Sam's general direction.
Brittany turned to Sam, who shrugged, looking thoroughly disgruntled.
"We would love to." Brittany supplied, her eyes still on Sam.
Lopez claps her hands in triumphant glee. She was the happiest tonight Brittany had ever seen her before. She wonders why that is. Maybe the party atmosphere? The alcohol?
The three of them made their way to the card room, where Brittany and Sam are introduced to a plump, rosy-faced woman of clear Arawan descent. Lopez identifies her as Heather Larson, her cousin. Larson nods in a form of greeting, clearly not interested in anything but having partners in a game of whist.
The card room was dimly lit and warm from body heat, stuffy with cigar smoke. Overall, the conditions remind Brittany of a certain few weeks in a certain tent, in a certain jungle. The déjà-vu makes her sick, or maybe that's just the cigar smoke.
She looks to Lopez, wondering if the conditions remind her of that too, but finds only a scarred brow furrowed in concentration and a hand of cards an inch from her face.
The game of whist continues. Naturally, Lopez and her cousin team up against Brittany and Sam. Alas, neither her nor Sam are great players and they lose game after game after game.
Lopez is wonderful at whist. Her poker face is unlike any Brittany had ever seen before. An arched brow speaks challenge, and the teasing, almost taunting smile wears away at Brittany's nerves and makes her question every single move she makes in the game.
Lopez's playing tells another story. She's quick, aggressive, and decisive. As if she knows that she will win no matter the hand she is dealt.
Surprisingly, Brittany finds herself unbothered by the constant loosing, and starts to relax in the haunting conditions of the card room.
The same does not apply to Sam, however. A quick glance to her side reveals her partner to be fuming intensely.
On their fifth game, in the middle of it, Lopez's eyes grow cold and she glares at Sam.
"Sir," she begins calmly, coldly. "What is the meaning of your actions?"
To his credit, Sam manages to balk rather convincingly, opening his mouth to protest, but Lopez cuts across him.
"I saw you cheat, do not deny it. You saw it, did you not, ladies?" she asks both Brittany and Larson, pointing an accusing finger at Sam.
Larson nods with a sniff, and Brittany does the same, even though she had not seen anything. She had embarrassingly been too preoccupied with staring at Lopez and her teasing, sultry smirk from across the table.
"I did no such thing!" Sam pounds his fist on the table like a preacher moved with the Word. "I assure you ladies—"
"You lie!" Lopez spits from across the table, standing up to her full height. The entire room goes quiet, the occupants abandoning their own games to stare at the juicy skeptical Brittany's table was now producing. Brittany squirms in her seat a bit, uncomfortable under the gazes.
"You dare call me a liar? I demand satisfaction, ma'am!" Sam growls out, also standing up, and for the first time, Brittany notices the Lopez is several inches shorter than him. The realization makes her want to laugh for some reason.
"I'm eager to oblige, sir." Lopez nods. "My cousin will, of course, stand as my second." Brittany momentarily wonders if Larson has any formal weapon's training. She does not look like she does. "And yours?" Lopez asks, stonily glaring at Sam.
Brittany knows what will happen before it does, and she is already nodding by the time Sam's eyes travel to her quizzically.
Something flashes in Lopez's eyes then—a certain something that Brittany is all too familiar with from all those nights in the tent.
And suddenly she knows this is a terrible idea. It was a bad idea to begin with, but now it has grown to a terrible one. Brittany knows for certain that Sam has made a terrible mistake.
"As the challenged party, mine is the choice of weapon, yes?" the glow in Lopez's eyes was absolutely feral. Insane.
"Oh, of course." Sam pays nothing any mind, and Brittany knows why.
In the academy, Sam graduated top of the class in weaponry. He was the most talented dueler and the sharpest of shots from day one. He was, quite frankly put, the best fighter Brittany knew.
That is, before she met Santana Lopez. If Sam was good, Lopez was amazing. There was no doubt in Brittany's mind about who would win the duel.
"Swords, of course. Steel goes where the master says. A bullet, however..." Lopez trailed off with a light chuckle.
Sam nodded, whether in agreement or with Lopez's weapon choice, Brittany didn't know.
"Very well. Shall we proceed?" Sam said almost pleasantly, motioning to the door that led out of the room.
Lopez raised her scarred brow—she seemed to prefer that brow to raise—in something like shock. "Now? During the party?"
Brittany noticed a few heads pop into the room from the main ballroom area to watch the skeptical.
"Of course," if anything, Sam looked even more smug at the prospect of catching Lopez a bit off guard. "My honor demands to be restored."
"Very well." Lopez agrees lightly, seemingly at peace with his explanation and no longer bothered.
The weather outside was pleasurably warm, typical of the season. The back yard is well lit and neatly taken care of as the four of them make their way to the middle of it. A rather large crowd follows them at length, having grown from just the card room spectators to almost all the guests at the party when they passed through the ballroom area.
They make their way to the middle of the yard and Sam and Lopez split apart, going to opposite ends of the yard. Brittany follows Sam.
"What are you thinking? Why are you doing this?" Brittany hisses as soon as she and Sam are facing each other.
"I had to stump her," Sam explains simply. "For the glory of Araw."
"So you cheated? You wanted to bring glory to Araw—by cheating?" she spat, unbelieving. Sam looked a bit sheepish.
"It doesn't matter now," Sam declared resolutely after a few moments of silence. "We are here, and my honor will be restored."
Brittany sighed. "Fine. I suppose I'll go confer with Larson. Stay here."
She travels to the other end of the large yard briskly, where Lopez and some of the other invited Tenebran soldiers are chatting pleasantly. She does not meet Brittany's eyes.
"So. Terms?" Larson says in her nasally voice. She looks none too pleased at having been pulled into this, and Brittany has no doubt that she would have rather be playing whist right now than doing this.
"Five paces apart, stop at first blood?" Brittany suggests. Larson nods indifferently.
When Brittany gets back to her side of the yard, Sam smiles and disentangles himself from the conversations he was having with a few white-clad soldiers.
Brittany relayed the terms to him, and he grinned a bit at the words 'first blood', before walking to the middle of the yard, where Lopez was waiting patiently.
Halfway there, though, Sam turned back around and walked to Brittany once again.
"Might I have a token?" He asks loudly. The chatter around them doubles instantly, no doubt scandalized by the announcement.
Brittany panicked. She didn't have a token! Who asked for a token in a duel anyway? This was not a jousting tournament!
Regardless, she took her fencing glove out of her pocket and handed it to him, glancing over his shoulder when she did so, unable to meet his eyes. Instead she was met with another pair of eyes. Blazing dark eyes burning with such intense, insane anger that it pulled at the most animal need in her and made her want to flee with an imaginary tail between her hind legs. The only other time she had ever that spark in those brown eyes, Lopez had quite literally sliced a man into several pieces.
Sam put the glove on his fencing hand and grinned at her before turning back to make his way to the middle of the yard and Brittany had to fight with an instinct to grab hold of him and restrain him from going to Lopez. That look in her eyes. There was such a deep hunger for blood in those eyes. If they had not been surrounded by spectators tonight, Brittany did not doubt that Lopez would surely murder Sam.
But, as it turned out, they were surrounded by a crowd of spectators, and Lopez was nothing if not a gentlewoman. She would never make such a bloodbath of a simple duel. Even if the want was clear in her eyes.
Larson shouted the order to begin, and immediately, Sam begins circling Lopez, probing her for weakness.
Lopez stands in her spot, sword drawn, but not in a defensive position. She looked down her nose in that coldly self-righteous way at her opponent, not moving anything but her eyes, which follow Sam's every move calmly.
Sam was clearly not sure what to do with the unusual behavior, and certainty flashes in Lopez's eyes—Sam's hesitation apparently being the only cue she needed. The Tenebran soldier takes a practiced defensive stand.
At the movement, Sam is spooked and thinks it to be an offensive one. He throws himself with reckless abandon at Lopez, who reciprocated so fiercely it made Sam stumble back. Lopez was obviously stronger than him and better trained.
Brittany expects Lopez to give him a chance to regain his balance, but she doesn't. The officer advances quickly on her foe, slashing with the power of her whole arm, dealing blows so hard and fast Sam can barely keep up with blocking.
And he doesn't.
Not for long.
When his guard breaks, Brittany expects Lopez to start slashing—but once again she is wrong. Lopez slows down her blows and gives him time to regain his composure. And when he does, she goes back to her powerful slashing—the sound of metal echoes around the yard loudly and rings in Brittany's ears as Sam desperately tries to meet her blow for blow.
Brittany quickly catches onto Lopez's game—she is playing him, wearing him down. Sam obviously sees this too, and it angers him.
The next time his guard breaks and Lopez slows down, Sam jumps in with a two-handed, overhead blow.
But he isn't half the fencer Santana Lopez is. He could never be. Brittany could confidently say that no one could.
Lopez catches Sam's blow easily, although the power of it obviously strains her. Nevertheless, with a few quick flicks of her arm, Sam's blade is deflected to the side. Finally, Lopez takes the obvious open in his guard and slashed his non fencing arm at the bicep.
Sam cries out in pain, dropping his sword and clutching at the gash. Blood seeps through his fingers and gets absorbed by the white uniform he is wearing, staining it nastily.
"Hold!" Larson calls. "First blood! Honor is satisfied!"
Lopez backs away, but with a muting cry of pure rage, Sam jumps forward and slashes at her with a primal furry born from a hurt pride. Lopez catches the blow easily once more, and with a few quick flicks of her blade, she send's Sam's replaced sword flying in a furious trajectory into the air. Brittany watches it land on the roof of the house. The whole thing is almost comically impossible—the kind of thing you would read in a book.
Brittany turns back to the scene in front of her and sees Lopez breathing heavily through her teeth, eyes furious and wild, her blade pointed at a kneeling Sam's throat.
In a panicked flash of déjà-vu, Brittany runs forward.
"Enough! Stop!" she screams. She sounds desperate and scared to her own ears. Larson also hurries forward.
"First blood was called! What is wrong with you, boy? Don't you know anything about dueling?"
"Ladies, please!" Lopez snaps, rolling her eyes. She sheaths her sword fiercely. "It is completely normal to get caught up in the heat of battle and want to continue." she sounds like an irritated mother lecturing a small child.
She offers her hand to an obviously seething Sam, who bashes it aside, all attempts at being a gentleman gone with his humiliating defeat.
Lopez takes it in stride and turns from him, brushing off her uniform, even though there was not a speck on it.
"And they say the Arawan military is more honorable. Ha!" Brittany hears her mutter. "I'll be taking my leave now." Lopez says to no one in particular.
A fat, wealthily dressed man rushes forward to her. Brittany recognizes him as the host.
"Oh, but Madam Lopez, please! The night is still young! Please stay for a few more drinks!" he cries, rather dramatically. If Lopez is taken aback, she doesn't show it as she politely nods and bows to him.
"I'll be delighted, then. Thank you."
And just like that, she is crowned the hero at the party. Being a hero looks good on her, Brittany has to admit.