To say that Santana intrigued Brittany would be an understatement.

The brunette knew more about Brittany's own family than she did. She spoke of Brittany's mother as if she had been her own. Every so often, though, she would make subtle comments towards Brittany being more than she thought. Brittany always ignored them, not wanting to stray from the beliefs she had come to known since the moment she was born.

"Is the bakery shop still up just outside the castle grounds?" Santana asked suddenly, abruptly interrupting Brittany as she spoke of her servant, Rachel, and how she heroically saved Brittany's life by guiding her out of the castle via secret tunnel.

Brittany cast her eyes over to Santana, who had not looked at her since they left the small cabin. The blonde had remembered the bakery shop from when she was younger, though she did not know whether or not she should tell Santana what truly happened to it years ago.

"Well?" Santana snapped, clearly impatient.

"It...was..." Brittany drew out.

"What happened to it?"

"The owners were murdered, and there was no one else willing to run the shop," Brittany said slowly. She watched the way that Santana winced at the words, and for the moment had the urge to hold the brunette's hand. Quickly, though, she pushed the urge away, deeming it stupid and pointless. Brittany knew the gesture in her mind was only for comfort, but something stirred in her stomach at the thought of her holding the other girl's hand, and the stirring was not unpleasant, though not entirely welcomed, either.

"What about their kids?" Santana asked quietly, her voice now small and not as biting. Sadness crept into her features, Brittany noticed, and the blonde caught sight of the tears pooling in Santana's eyes.

"They are probably dead now, considering the South has-" Brittany stopped herself short, realizing how insensitive she had sounded.

"Everyone is probably dead. And it is probably your fault," Santana bit harshly at the other girl. Brittany knew that the words were instinct, that Santana was just reacting, yet it hurt. While she probably would have accepted the statement and not taken it to heart, hearing it come from Santana made a sob catch in Brittany's throat. She tried her best to swallow it back down, though. Crying in front of Santana would probably just give the brunette another reason to insult her.

"The journey to the borders of the forest is a day's travel. From the border of the forest to Opheal is another two days. We are not prepared for such a journey. Of course, we can probably go without eating for the day's walk to the bored of the forest, if you can refrain from complaining any longer."

Brittany had spent much of her time complaining of a growling stomach and a dry throat. They had not eaten before they left, Santana making up an excuse as to how she did not have any food in the cabin. However, Brittany had seen a pantry, though did not dare to open it. Either way, the blonde knew Santana was lying. How else would she be able to survive?

"Anyway. Once we get into the city that resides just outside of Illerti, well the one we are going to anyway, we can just steal some food for the journey to the Opheal."

"I am not stealing food," Brittany replied quickly.

"Okay, then we could just steal money to pay for the food," Santana told her. Brittany stared at her as if she was insane, and Santana looked back with a confused expression.

"I am not stealing anything from anyone! Where the hell are your morals, Santana?!" Brittany exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. She stopped walking to stare at Santana, desperately wanting to know the answer.

"Morals? I was exiled from Ellic and have lived in this forest ever since, and you are asking me about morals? Stealing is nothing compared to what I have done! I have slaughtered every human to have come into this forest since the day I arrived here, save your bitch. The soldiers took care of her for me," Santana spat out.

"She was not my 'bitch'! And do not speak of Rachel in such a manner! She was my friend, and she died trying to protect me. I will not allow you to speak ill of her!" Brittany shouted at her.

"Oh, come on, Brittany," Santana replied, delibaretely dropping the title of 'princess' from her sentence. "Stop lying to yourself. Rachel was your servant, whether you want to admit it to me out loud or not. You made her do crap for you. She was just your bitch. To try and pretend she was something more is probably insulting her as she throws up in her grave! Oh, that's right. We both left her to rot with the rest of the bodies, and you have not spared one thought as to whether or not we should have gone back and buried her. Congratulations, Princess. You are the best fucking friend anyone could ever have!"

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Brittany screamed. She brought her hands to her ears and covered them. Her eyes were closed tightly and she continued to scream the two words over and over again, not even knowing whether or not Santana had even stopped talking. Tears streamed from her shut eyes as Santana's words sunk in. She was right to some degree. Brittany had not bothered to ask Santana if they could go back and give Rachel a proper burial. Hell, when she had woken up, Brittany was really mostly concerned with herself.

After a few minutes, Brittany was still screaming, but her breath was coming out in short huffs and she felt herself growing light-headed. Unexpectedly, she felt hands loosely prying her hands away from her ears, forcing her to listen to whatever Santana was saying. However, Santana was silent, especially over Brittany's shouting. The hands that had pried her own hands away from her ears now held her wrists in a gentle grip, and Brittany began to doubt that it was Santana. The brunette could never be so gentle.

Brittany had stopped yelling, but her eyes were still closed and she was still crying. Despite her lack of breath, sobs still fell from her, and eventually she felt a pair of strong arms envelope her. Brittany was crouched over and sobbing into someone's neck, still not bringing herself to believe it was Santana. The other person was female, Brittany deduced, as the voice whispering softly into her hair was feminine.

When Brittany finally stopped crying and opened her eyes, she could see tan skin. Tan skin that clearly belonged to the outcast that she had been travelling with. It should not have shocked her as much as it had. After all, Santana was the only person around. No one else could have done that to Brittany. She slowly drew herself from the brunette to look into her eyes, though all she was met with were coldness and that same damn loneliness that made Brittany feel a pang of guilt.

Santana did not feel anything for the girl. She just wanted their journey to continue as quickly as possible. Or, at least, that was what she had told herself. There was no way she would let some princess of a kingdom that had been burned to ashes within a night suddenly make her develop emotions again. No. That would be foolish. Yet, Santana's arguements soon started to sound even more foolish to her, and she knew that some small part of her felt bad for the other girl. Fuck it-she even felt guilty for the harsh words she had spoken to begin with.

Princess Brittany S. Pierce, you truly are something, Santana thought to herself, trying to push away the feeling of guilt. Not even a day spent with Brittany, and Santana already knew the tall blonde was possibly going to be the death of her.