Rating: T
Summary: FAM Zorro. This starts off with the same basic premise as the episode "One Special Night" but the focus in the meeting with the emissary not the night spent in the windmill (which may not even happen in my version). This is a reveal story.
A/N: This is the first time I have posted anything on . I would appreciate any helpful critiques or reviews - honesty is appreciated - flames are not. I've done my best on the research for this - but in all honesty I started this as an exercise in character development writing, not as any sort of attempt to be a well-researched "historical fiction." Thank you for taking the time to read!
Secrets in the Night
By: visions2share a.k.a. Vi
How long would he be realistically able to keep up this farce? How long could he keep being two different people? And, more to the point, how could he stop being either one? His father would be heartbroken if Diego left or staged his death. Felipe, while he'd know it was fake, would still be without him – and that would hurt Diego too. And the people could not do without Zorro. That didn't even take Victoria Escalante into account – after all that was a whole different, more complicated, problem. Really Diego knew that he would just have to continue probably forever – or at least until it killed him. He had wanted to help, he still did, he had an unquenchable thirst for justice – and no amount of self-pity was going to change that. It was just that, once in a while, he needed to remind himself.
The time was approaching when something would have to be done. About Victoria, and about Felipe. Felipe was the easier decision to make. Diego would adopt him. He was already the son of his heart and, although making it legal would not change the way Diego felt, it would legitimize Felipe's position by his side in the eyes of the other caballeros, and assure that the de la Vega's had an heir. Most importantly, it would tell Felipe in the clearest way possible how important he was to Diego – how much he was loved. Diego knew he should have done it years ago – before he ever went away to school. And certainly when he came home again. When that woman had came around claiming to be Felipe's mother – Diego thought his heart had stopped beating when he watched her drive away with his son. He'd had a very similar reaction when Felipe had considered joining the army. The boy longed to see the world – and so he should – but he should do it from a better position than that of a private in the army. He should see Spain as a caballero, as a student at the University in Madrid. He should travel the colonies as a man to be respected, not someone to stand in defense of, and do the bidding of, undeserving superior officers – putting himself in harm's way for men he could not possibly respect. Thankfully he'd made his own decision and Diego thought it was a good one. Felipe wanted to be a lawyer. That would satisfy the sense of justice that he had learned at Diego's side, and provide both a challenge and a sense of personal satisfaction.
It was likely Felipe would be the only child Diego would ever have, which just brought his thoughts back to the problem of Victoria. She was waiting for Zorro – and while she was in love with the hero – Diego was practically invisible. When she did see him, all she saw was how he failed to live up to his father's standards or those of Zorro. How terribly ironic – the only woman he would ever love would never love him because she was in love with him. Ironic – and confusing.
Victoria deserved to have a good life. A good man by her side. Children around her skirts. A family – the dream. Zorro could not give her that. She would never allow Diego to give her that. Just because Diego had resigned himself to being alone forever did not mean that he had the right to sentence her to that same fate. A few stolen moments, a stolen kiss now and then, dashing away when he heard the soldiers coming. It was not the kind of life she deserved. She deserved to be dripping in jewels. To be the center of a man's life – his whole world. His first and only true priority. She did not deserve to play a distant second fiddle to the mysterious lady 'justice'. He – Zorro – would have to let her go. Would have to tell her she should not wait for him anymore. Despite their love, their passion, Dona Destiny had another story in mind and even Zorro with all his strength could not see changing her mind – their fate.
It was a sad realization – but not a new one. Diego had been having this argument with himself for weeks now. It never ended any differently. Lately, every time he sat at his desk in the cave preparing to study one of his books, his thoughts turned again to these decisions. And time and again he came to the same conclusions. He was going to have to come to terms with the heartbreak and take the necessary steps to make these decisions reality – but, oh gracious, it hurt.
Suddenly Diego felt Felipe's hand on his shoulder shaking him – trying to get his attention.
"Yes – what is it?" Diego questioned.
Your father has had an accident – his horse threw him – the vaqueros have taken him to his room and one has ridden for the doctor. But he is asking for you.
Diego threw himself into action. He grabbed several decanters containing different potions – his cactus tea among them. He would do what he could to help until the doctor arrived. Felipe checked the viewing portal and indicated the coast was clear then followed Diego out into the library.
"Diego, where were you?" his father questioned the moment Diego and Felipe appeared in the old man's doorway.
"I'm sorry I was not here sooner, Father – I was absorbed in a book…" Diego let his explanation dither off – his Father didn't really care where he was because he was sure to have been doing something disappointing. In his father's eye's, he always was.
"Callimound threw me – damn horse spooked at a snake – and threw me – me!" Don Alejandro had been among the very best horsemen in his younger days – and now whenever he failed to live up to his former standard – however infrequently that might happen – he was always indignant that such a thing, whatever it might be at any given time, could happen to him in particular.
"Callimound? Really- how surprising." In truth it wasn't all that surprising, Don Alejandro's newest prized stallion, an import direct from his royal majesty in Spain, was, as yet, unaccustomed to the vermin that were common in California and, therefore, was at such times like a wild animal. But Diego said nothing more – he had warned his father not to try riding Callimound until he'd had more training, but his father had chosen to ignore Diego's opinion – because it was worth less than nothing. After all, as far as Don Alejandro was concerned his son was a worthless scientist, scholar, musician, and poet – but certainly no authority of horses. "How are you feeling, Father?"
"Like my damn horse threw me – how do you think I feel?" Don Alejandro's answer was grumpy – exactly what Diego expected from an expert horseman who had been unseated.
"Can you breathe alright?" Diego asked as he took his father's left arm gently in his hand – feeling is heartbeat through this wrist.
"Of course I can breathe…" Don Alejandro started to reply, but, in taking a deep breath to finish his sentence, he proved himself a liar. He gasped and wrapped both arms protectively around his middle but could not find the breath to finish speaking.
"Looks like you probably broke at least one rib." Diego turned to face Felipe, careful to keep up the pretense that the young man could not hear. "Felipe, go and get one of those corsets that we used the last time the mare threw me." Diego glanced back at his father then looked back at Felipe and without a sound mouthed 'the biggest one.' His father was in fine shape – but he didn't see the daily exercise Zorro did.
Felipe nodded and ran from the room.
In the mean time, Diego turned back to his father and asked, "how's the pain? Do you want me to give you something to help with it?"
"Miguel went for Dr. Hernandez. I would rather wait for him." Don Alejandro stated firmly.
Of course he would. Medicine was science. His father had watched Diego take bullets out of their friends from time to time – did he really think he'd screw it up badly enough to hurt him?
"Very well – they should be back shortly. In the mean time, is there anything you need to make you more comfortable?"
"No – I said I'll wait for the doctor."
"Yes, Father."
"What I wanted to see you about is my trip to Monterey tomorrow to see the King's emissary. You will, unfortunately, have to make the trip in my place. I wish to talk about what I want you to say to him. This meeting is very important. The emissary doesn't have to speak with anyone but the governor if he doesn't wish to – but we need him to hear the plight of the people of the Pueblo de Las Angeles. We cannot afford, the people cannot afford, for us to let this opportunity pass us by. There is a chance that we may be able to get word to the King about de Soto's unsuitability to be the alcalde of the pueblo. We must take the opportunity, do everything we possibly can, to see that he is, at the least, recalled to Spain."
"Or arrested," Diego added.
"Exactly – since I will not be able to make the trip to Monterey you must go in my stead. You must speak to the emissary with respect, but also with the strength of your convictions and passion. I know you prefer to leave such things as fights for justice and serving the people of the pueblo to others – but this time it is not an option. The emissary, as I said, doesn't have to see anyone. Our only chance is that he will see us because we are de la Vegas – we must use the respect that our name commands to gain an audience with the man. And once we have it – you must make the most of the opportunity."
"Yes, Father."
"You must make the emissary and governor see that the people of the pueblo are willing to help King and country – but will not be able to do so if they are taxed to oblivion to buy the alcalde pretty bobbles for his office, fancy clothes for his person, and a fast horse, albeit one of inferior blood lines, to try to capture Zorro. Zorro, the only one who has done anything constructive to help the stop the oppression of the people. You must make him understand that it is not in Spain's best interests, not in the King's best interests, to leave de Soto in command of the garrison. That he must be replaced – and soon. But be very careful not to give any hint that might threaten anarchy – or rebellion – we are royalist and shall remain so. We are loyal to the King – now all we need is for the King to remember to be loyal to us. Don't say that either. You should say…"
"Relax, Father – I will choose my words with the utmost care. It will all work out – I promise."
"Diego, my son, you cannot take this as lightly as you take everything else. This is not one of your silly experiments or your annoying compositions or poems – the welfare, the very livelihood, of the people of the pueblo is being placed into your hands. Do not let me down – do not let them down."
"Calm down." The more his father spoke, the more effort it took to control his breathing and pain the probably multiple broken ribs brought with each breath. "I hear horses – it must be Miguel with Dr. Hernandez."
While his father worked to catch his breath, Diego waited patiently for Felipe to lead Dr. Hernandez into the room.
When the good doctor was done, Don Alejandro was sleeping peacefully from some of Diego's own Cactus Tea, and was trussed up in the corset that Felipe had brought when he escorted in Dr. Hernandez.
"I don't really think there was anything I could do that you couldn't have done just as well and sooner than I, Don Diego." Dr. Hernandez commented.
"I'm sure your expert opinion was a great comfort to my father." Diego agreed without really saying so.
"Yes, apparently. Don Alejandro is a great man – but he would serve himself better if he would acknowledge your tremendous knowledge and gift for the healing sciences."
Diego smiled, "I am afraid that once I disappointed my father in his expectations of his only son – he stopped being able to see the accomplishment of my expectations for myself."
"Indeed. You deal very well with him, Don Diego, not yelling and demanding attention, but very calmly going on about your business. Yes, even though Don Alejandro refuses to see it, you are a great credit to the de la Vega name."
"Thank you, doctor." Diego bowed his head as he accepted the compliment. Miguel was waiting with the carriage to take the doctor back to the pueblo.
"Don Diego, patron…the supplies are supposed to be delivered to the mission today, si?" Miguel reminded him.
"Si – Don Alejandro will be well – and will be sleeping for several hours. While he is resting, Felipe and I will take the buckboard to the mission. Is it loaded?"
"Si, Don Diego, it will only need a team hitched and you can go immediately."
"Thank you, Miguel." Diego returned his attention to the good doctor, "Dr. Hernandez, thank you for coming all this way to see my father – we both appreciate it very much."
"Certainly, Don Diego, certainly. But, as I said, you could have handled it easily on your own." Dr. Hernandez gave Diego a hard look – one that made him think he could see right through him into the deepest part of his soul.
"Nonetheless, I appreciate it, and it was a great comfort for my father. Have a safe journey back to the pueblo. I am leaving in the morning, in my father's place. I'll be leaving Felipe here. He'll send for you if father needs medical attention." As Diego finished speaking, he nodded to Miguel, who started them on their journey to the pueblo.
"Very well, Don Diego – have a safe journey!" the doctor called back and the wagon began to pick up speed and rumble toward the main path to the pueblo.
Diego chuckled to himself – at least Dr. Hernandez hadn't told him to be careful not to get lost. Seemed the good doctor had more faith in him than his own father did. In fact, occasionally Dr. Hernandez would give Diego that hard look and sometimes he gave that identical look to Zorro – it made Diego feel as if the doctor knew all his secrets. That the doctor had seen what no one else could and discovered his dual identity. The next moment the look would be gone – and with it all Diego's suppositions.
The only two local people Diego thought had ever come close to discovering his secret, the writer from Spain didn't count, were Dr. Hernandez and Father Benitez. And he was about to go see Father Benitez – seeing both men in one day – made Diego feel like tying his masks, both the physical mask of Zorro and the ethereal mask of Don Diego, tighter.
Felipe would be sitting with Don Alejandro waiting for Diego's return. Diego stopped by the kitchen first to tell Maria he and Felipe would be in the pueblo for a few hours, and that Don Alejandro should stay asleep all that time, and, if he didn't, to give him another small glass of the cactus tea.
When Diego got back to his father's chamber he made sure to check for a pulse, even breathing, and to verify he hadn't developed a fever. Finding everything as it should be – he put the cactus tea on the side table where he'd told Maria she would find it if needed – and turned to Felipe.
"Miguel reminded me we have that wagon load full of supplies for the mission in the pueblo. Father will sleep while we are gone."
You will tell Father Benitez you are going to Monterey?
"Maybe – it will depend on who else it around. It would not do for our plans to reach the ears of the alcalde – now would it?"
Felipe just shook his head.
"Alright, let's get into the pueblo."
With one last look at Don Alejandro they left the chamber and headed for the stables to hitch the wagon.
The drive to the pueblo didn't take long and soon they pulled up in front of the mission. Padre Benitez was in the side garden watching the birds and saw them pull up.
"Good morning, Don Diego, Felipe - how are you both today?"
"We are both well, Padre. We have brought some supplies for the mission. Some blankets, some clothing, some food, and a new water pump that we purchased a few weeks ago. It won't work in conjunction with the one we already have, so we thought maybe the mission, herself, could use it – as for the rest, I'm sure you know of people in need?"
"Yes certainly. A new water pump for the mission would be most welcome to everyone here – and the parishioners as well. And, the supplies for the poor will bring many smiles to the faces of the citizens of the pueblo. I'll send for some hands to help unload your wagon." Padre Benitez, with a big smile on his face, turned and signaled for some of his helpers to come and unload the wagon.
As Felipe helped unload the wagon Padre Benitez pulled Diego aside into the garden.
"I am especially glad to see you this day, Don Diego."
Diego raised an eyebrow waiting patiently for an explanation.
"I spoke with your father a few days ago…" the padre broke off to take a careful look all around him. There were a few soldiers on the other side of the garden wall – and though they appeared to not be paying any attention to the mission, Padre Benitez frowned at their backs before turning the majority of his attention back to Diego – while keeping a casual eye on the soldiers. "I heard he was planning on a making a business trip tomorrow," another glance at the soldiers and a wink to Diego, "north to San Francisco. He said something about some new cattle for your rancho?"
Diego knew that his father had spoken with Padre Benitez about his planned journey to Monterey to speak with the King's emissary – having wanted to make sure that he had recent information of the status of the poor in the pueblo to pass on.
"Si. That is, was, his plan, Padre – but unfortunately he took a spill off his newest stallion this morning – and I will have to make the trip in his place." Diego took his turn eyeing the soldiers, "naturally, my father was hesitant to let me go alone. Between my abysmal sense of direction, and lack of knowledge about horses, he was quite convinced that it might have been better to forget the whole thing. But those cattle he wanted to see are also coveted by several other ranchos – and maybe even some Americanos – so my eye is better than forfeiting the prize altogether."
Diego could see the padre's sharp mind work out what was truth, what was fiction, and what was code. The Padre gave a nod, another glance at the soldiers that were moving farther away toward the cantina, and a look around the garden to make sure no new ears had been approaching. "Yes. I will pray for a safe and successful journey for you, Don Diego. Just as I am praying for so many of the citizens of the pueblo who now have to pay a tax for traveling on the pathways in the pueblo. Three pesos for a horse and one for human feet!"
It was Diego's turn to give a nod – he would pass this information on to the emissary when he saw him. "What is the purpose of this new tax? Did the Alcalde say? When does it take effect?"
"It won't take effect for another week. The Alcalde says that the money will go toward the maintenance of the pathways. Now you tell me, Diego, how much maintenance does bare ground take?"
"Not that much, certainly. It isn't as though we have cobblestones like in Madrid, or other large European cities. No, this isn't necessary for a pueblo the size of Los Angeles." Diego said nothing further – it wasn't necessary – he knew that they both understood what was really being said.
"It looks as though Felipe and the others have finished unloading the wagon, I do thank you and your father for your generosity." The padre hesitated before continuing, taking a moment to check and see who might be listening. "And I know you will do your father more than proud – in fact – I believe you will be more successful in your endeavor than he would have been."
Diego checked about them, nobody was near enough to hear, except Felipe. Then he made eye contact with Padre Benitez and raised one eyebrow, "really?"
"Indeed, your father, though he is a kind man, can be ruled by his anger. You are always, always patient and think before acting. It is a habit that serves you very well."
"Some, including my father, would say I don't act at all."
Padre Benitez smiled a smile that said he knew more than he would ever admit, "that merely shows that people do not know nearly what they believe they do."
They both, at that moment, spotted soldiers making their way toward the mission on their hourly round of the pueblo. Padre Benitez and Don Diego nodded their goodbyes, Diego climbed into the wagon with Felipe, and Felipe began to steer the team toward the tavern.
End Chapter 01
A/N: There is more to come if anybody is interested. Thanks for reading!