Author's Note: Usual disclaimer applies. I haven't stopped working on my other story but I just felt in a fantasy mood today. I hope you enjoy. I still need a beta reader! let me know in my ask box at meeemers dot tumblr dot com if it should be you. Please comment and stuff too! :)

Prologue

Brittany Piece was not yet twenty years of age, to those around her she was esteemed to be a beacon of cheer and calm throughout McKynley Abbey. Because of this, she had many friends, and many of the elders would bloom into a smile as she passed, the hood of her brown cloak gathered around her blonde hair and her footsteps light like a dance.

In the mornings, Sister Brittany's daily tasks took her beyond the Abbey walls, into the forest to gather roots and mushrooms and sometimes other things for Father Shuester's brewery. Every morning she'd close the iron gate behind her and latch it with a clank. She looked out across the hills. The dew still clung to the grass, and a mist hovered in the valleys. The treeline in the distance was dark and hazy.

She breathed in the fresh air, so clean, so unlike the musty air that clung about McKynley Abbey, and walk towards the forest. Birds called and dragonflies hovered over the wild grass. Judging by the humidity, Brittany could already tell it was going to be a hot day.

Once under the umbrella of the forest, it felt quite a bit cooler, and the air was silent and still. She walked even farther, deeper, to where the ancient roots were, and knelt on the ground. The hole she'd been digging for a while was her marker of where to start today. She fished out her trowel and began to break the dirt even further into the ground, sifting it with her hands in search of the prized vegetables.

This task was her favorite part of the day. Before the hustle and bustle of laundry and brewing and cheesemaking, she had a moment to be one with nature, to fill her hands with dirt. She relished it. One by one she found what she sought, breaking at them with her trowel until they came up. She put them in her cloak and kept digging. There was something delicious about it, digging in the dirt. She wore the silliest grin, just thinking about it!

As she dug, a little squirrel ventured near her. "Heyyyy, little one," she cooed. "Come to watch me work?" The creature sniffed nearer, twitching its tail. "Look at you, twitchy-twitchy!" She said. She reached out towards to squirrel, but it bolted away.

"Come back, little guy!" she whined, rising from her knees. "I don't want to hurt you!"

She parted the bushes where she had seen him run off, and took a step forward, but she was shocked when her foot found not dirt, but something… squishier. Brittany looked down. It was a burgundy wool blanket, wrapped around a lump… Oh god.

She pulled the bushes further, and peeled the blanket from the top of the lump, revealing hair that was raven-black and shiny. Oh God, oh God! She panicked. I've just discovered a dead body! Dear God, what am I going to do! I can't leave her here, but I haven't the strength to carry her back to the Abbey... Oh my God…

With nervous hands, Brittany attempted to roll the body over. It was unwieldy in the bushes, and awkward. She was afraid to look upon its face: she'd never seen a dead person before! She closed her eyes tight and pushed with all her might.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?" The body spoke.

"You're not dead?" Brittany still had her eyes squinted closed, just in case.

"Do I fucking look like I'm dead?" Brittany opened her eyes slowly, and looked at her. No, she did not look dead. Not at all. The raven hair, which was messy, framed a delicate face with thick, dark eyelashes and coffee-colored eyes. Brittany gaped.

"Listen, little nun. You tell anyone I'm out here, and I ends you. Got that?"

Brittany just nodded.

"Good. You just go along your merry little way and forget that you saw me."

Brittany nodded again and walked quickly back towards the Abbey.

When she returned, the Abbey was bustling with the sounds and smells of boiling pots and children running between the great brick structures. Chickens wandered and clucked in the pens. It was hot indeed, and Father Shuester was fanning himself exhaustedly, sitting on the steps.

"You alright, Sister Brittany?" he asked her warmly.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine," she said, reaching into her cloak to hold up the roots, "Big haul today, see?"

"It's excellent," he approved. "You might want to rest a bit, child. You're looking rather pale."

She nodded to him and walked to the kitchens. She reconsidered what the girl in the forest said to her. Nobody had to know, right? She could stay as silent as the great stone pillars of the kitchens and nobody would be any wiser.

"Mother Beiste, I have returned!" She chirped, placing the roots in a carved wooden crate on the shelf. "What're you cooking?"

"Big ol' pot of soup!" She barked with a smile. It was hot in the kichens, even hotter than outside, and Mother Beiste was clearly sweating into her cloak. "You excited? It's Friday!"

It didn't take long for Brittany to remember what Fridays meant: dancing at the Trousers and Weasel! She let out a whoop of joy. A dance, a dance! The Trousers and Weasel was the McKynley town pub, perhaps considered no place for a young nun, but Brittany loved to dance and nobody seemed to mind. All thoughts of the strange woman in the forest escaped her. She spent the rest of the day scrubbing floors, thinking of dances.

The sun began its path downwards in the West, and a few abbeypeople made their way along the gravel trail. One of the boys had a mandolin and was leading the pack in a tune.

Ay fa la Hey, ay fa la hey,
My Lover shines bright as the Sun of the Day,
Ay fa la Oy, ay fa la Oy,
She is my Missy and I am her Boy.

Brittany danced ahead of them on the path, taking great leaps and flinging out her cloak with abandon. Her ponytail flipped and flopped as she skipped downhill, and turned around, still bouncing. She sang out loud with the refrain,

Say ye'll love me forever, yes,
As sweet as cordial wine,
Say ye'll love me till the seas dry up
And change your name to mine!

The humble building appeared before them just as the sky was turning a deep purple. A boy was out front lighting the lantern near the carved wooden sign emblazoned with a weasel and a pair of pants. Nobody knows who named the Trousers and Weasel, but it had been that way longer than anyone could remember.

Once inside, Brittany scanned the room with her eyes. The boy with the mandolin joined up with a group of lads carrying fiddles and drums and whistles. Young men and women laughed and drank heartily from clay mugs, looking rosy and healthy under the torchlight. Brittany looked towards the bar, where she found a familiar face.

"Miss Rachel!"

"Ah, it's you! Sister, have a seat, I think it'll be a minute before they strike up the band. Give me news from the Abbey, do!"

"Nothing happens at the Abbey, that's there's walls. To keep the boring in." Brittany wondered, half to herself and half to Rachel.

"You're so silly, Sister Brittany. Hold a minute, I have to bring these boys their ale."

She picked up eight clay mugs all at once and walked only a few steps to a cluster of boys nearby. They were deep in conversation.

"When they find who done it, their hide's in for quite the tanning," A young lad leaned up against the bar, his voice low and serious.

"Miss Rachel, another round!" A voice from across the room yelled, and Rachel scurried off.

Brittany sat alone and continued to listen in.

"But who would kidnap a Princess? Don't they know they'll be caught, and hung? It's only a matter of time. The king's eyes are everywhere."

Brittany spun around in her stool. "Princess?" She asked disbelievingly, before she could think better of her actions.

"Yes, a princess from Lima, across the river. King's real upset. He's making quite a show arguing with Queen Sylvester, says he's certain someone someone grabbed 'er and brought 'er here. "

"Well, what's she look like?" Asked Brittany, trying to look as casually curious as possible.

"I dunno. Heard she's real pretty. Dark hair, brown eyes."

It took everything Brittany had not to gape and sputter. Thankfully, she heard the first strains of the band begin a lively jig. A natural smile once again found her face, and she gathered up her skirts and headed to the dancing space between the tables.

The next morning, Brittany latched the iron gate behind her in the usual way, but rather than taking in the tranquil calm of the vast hills rolling out before her, her stomach was tied and twisted with nervousness. Part of her hoped the Princess would still be there. She had never looked upon a princess before, and the few glimpses she got yesterday were not enough to fill her curiosity. Yet, another part of her hoped that the Princess was gone on her way home. Brittany realized what serious trouble she'd be in if someone caught on to what was happening, and Brittany didn't like keeping secrets. In fact, she was terrible at it.

She made her way through the forest gingerly. At every corner and turn she thought she could see a glint of black hair or a flash of golden skin, but it was her mind playing tricks on her. She made her way towards the clearing where she was to dig, too preoccupied to think about the dirt today.

When she got to the clearing, there she was, no longer asleep. She was on her knees, the wool blanket wrapped around her, pawing at the foliage. She looked up at Brittany.

"You again?" She looked terribly mean.

"I brought you some bread," Brittany whispered as she produced it from her cloak.

Princess Santana was quick to her feet. Before Brittany could blink, the bread was gone from her hands and the princess was devouring it.

"Thanks, nun," She said with her mouth full. The blanket slid off to reveal a gown, laced tight around the torso, full and tattered around the hips. Brittany caught herself staring.

"You should go home, Princess," She said flatly.

The Princess shot a terrible glare at Brittany. "What makes you think you know what I should do?" She spat.

"People are worried about you. They think you've been kidnapped. The boys at the pub last night said the King thinks you're here."

"What the hell kind of a nun goes to pubs?" Santana shot back.

"I go to dance and hear the town talk. They're talking about you, Princess Santana. They say somebody's gonna get hung."

And that someone could be me if anyone found out I know where you are, Brittany added mentally.

"Listen, I can't go back," The Princess explained. "You have no idea what's going on. You don't k-know… if it.. if it were you..." Her words hitched and she pulled the blanket around her again. Tears rolled down her eyes and she sniffled loudly.

Brittany suddenly felt ashamed for being so frank. She knelt down next to the princess on the ground and put a long arm around her, pulling her near. "Hush, hush…" she whispered into her hair as she sobbed.

In that moment, Brittany felt something rise in her that she never felt before. As the sun filtered in through the trees in shades of gold and green, dappling them with light, she felt stronger and more graceful than she'd ever.

"Stay here. I'll take care of you, Princess," Brittany vowed.