Sorry for the delay in chapters again, my muse comes and goes. Hope everyone had a good Christmas/Holiday/New Years!
From this chapter on I'll be using story lines from seasons five/six but then veering off into non-canon territory, more B&B but no Hannah, I promise.
Enjoy!
It was not long until he sent a page boy to request her presence and soon she was walking the corridor to his chambers unsure of her next move, how she would feel when she looked at him again knowing what she now knew.
Hesitantly she knocked on his door, "Come in," came his reply from the other side.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door she entered slowly. Booth was propped up in his bed and he smiled widely at her, "Hi Bones."
As he said her name she tried to keep her emotions in check; she knew she could never deny him, she knew exactly how she felt about him so she smiled in return.
"Hello Booth," she replied as she came to sit with him on the bed.
Once there he leaned forward and they embraced warmly, a flood of unspoken words flowing between them.
"I'm so glad that you're better," she said as they pulled apart.
"Me too, give me another day and we'll head out riding," he laughed.
They sat for a moment in an almost awkward silence and the smile faded a little from Booth's face.
"You must have been busy Princess," he said to her, "Though it's probably better you didn't come, you might have fallen ill."
"I was busy," she almost stuttered, "Though Cam said you were doing much better after the fever broke."
Booth nodded, "Yes, it took awhile but I eventually came back to myself," reaching out he held her hand and their eyes met, "But we're alright now, aren't we?"
Brown eyes searched blue for an answer.
"Yes," she whispered, "We're alright."
His fingers lingered on hers until finally she broke the silence.
"Maybe you could help me with some matters of the kingdom," with that she launched into some discussions she'd been having with her father and the council. From there they lapsed into comfortable conversation.
When a knock came at the door and a maid requested her presence elsewhere she promised to come back and bring him documents to look over later.
She did and gradually, over the next few days, their friendship seemed to return to normal though at times she caught him watching her in a new way, other times he would catch her eyes lingering on them. A new emotion ran just under the surface of their relationship though both fought to keep it there.
"Brennan!" the lady Angela rushed into the Princess' chambers, "You must come and see!"
"See what?" she watched her friend's eyes dancing with excitement and raised an eyebrow in question.
"A group of players have come to the castle and they brought gypsy folk with them, there's a fortune teller among them that I've met before, you must come have your cards read!"
Temperance scoffed at her, "I do not believe in fortune telling, no one can read the stars or cards and predict the future."
Angela rolled her eyes, "She has for me, she said I would marry a noble man and I met Lord Hodgins shortly afterwards."
"A coincidence if anything. Besides, doesn't the church condemn such things?"
This made Angela laugh, "And since when do you follow any church rules? Come on, it will be fun."
Seeing that it would make her friend happy Temperance sighed and reluctantly agreed causing Angela to squeal. She practically dragged the Princess down to the courtyard where the gypsies had set up.
There were the typical carts of goods for sale, people playing music and further on the players were practicing for the evening's show. A tent was erected behind a cart and Temperance followed Angela to it.
"May we come in Avalon?" she called inside.
"Who's Avalon?" asked Temperance.
"I am," came the voice from inside, "I've been expecting you Lady Angela, come in."
Pulling back the tent's flap they stepped inside. The light was dimmer within and as her eyes adjusted Temperance saw a blonde woman sitting behind a table spreading cards on cloth.
"Your majesty," the woman inclined her head, "You honor me by coming. I am Avalon."
"You don't look like a gypsy," Temperance replied skeptically.
"Ah, I know, they are usually dark but I married into this clan," she paused to run her fingers over the cards, "Shall I read your fortune Princess?"
"You may but I don't believe in this sort of thing," she sat down on the other side of the table with Angela.
Avalon simply grinned and pulled the first card, "Temperance," her eyes raised to the Princess'.
Angela's own eyes were wide, "The first card she draws is your name, what do you say to that?"
"I say it is a coincidence. There was a chance she might pull that card along with an equal chance she could have pulled any other without my name on it."
The fortune teller skimmed the cards on the table again and selected another. A knight was on this one and her brow furrowed as she studied it.
"There is a man in your life, a knight, a short time ago he was lost. You were the light that brought him back," she held the Princess's gaze.
"Did you tell her something?" Temperance accused Angela.
"Not a thing."
"Then you heard about the tournament," the Princess turned back to Avalon.
"We've been outside of the country your highness."
"Well then you probably heard it from someone or heard the gossip in the taverns," Temperance tried to dismiss what she had been told.
Avalon raised an eyebrow in interest and continued while looking between the card and the Princess.
"There is a bond between the two of you, you are drawn to each other."
She let the words linger in the air as Temperance's eyes flashed.
Turning to Angela she said, "I've had enough of this nonsense, there are matters I must deal with Angela. I'll take my leave now."
With that Temperance stormed out of the tent leaving Avalon and Angela to exchange knowing looks.
What the gypsy said plagued the Princess' mind as she entered the castle. Several people were waiting outside of her chamber asking for an audience with her or delivering messages. She was in no mood to deal with any of them. Stalking past she waved her hand in dismissal and ordered her chamber doors shut and locked. Once inside she paced like a caged lion her ladies all cowering in a corner to avoid her.
"Get out," she ordered them and they scurried away.
Temperance knew only one thing might help to ease her mind so she rushed to the big chest at the end of her bed. She dug underneath the blankets within and pulled out the maid's dress and quickly changed.
A few minutes later she was in the stables mounting a horse to ride out on.
Sir Booth had made an excellent recovery from his ordeal physically, he was back to riding and other normal activities thanks to the Countess Cam and the Princess. Yet it was because of the Princess that he had not fully recovered emotionally. The fever dream of their life together haunted his nights, the sight of her during the day bringing back the emotions he fought to keep hidden. They had regained their friendship yet how he felt about her had drastically changed. Every moment in her presence challenged his will power for it was all he could do from grabbing her and kissing her fiercely. Watching her ignited a fire within him that burned with desire, for truly Sir Booth had fallen deeply in love with the Princess he could not have.
It left him with many sleepless nights debating whether it was better to leave her altogether or to suffer when the Prince came to claim her. Another option of them running away together was a fantasy he often fell into, yet he knew she would never leave her people.
The only option that wouldn't get him hung as a traitor was to stay the course of friendship and keep his love for her safely hidden.
So he found himself walking to her chambers to ask her to ride with him, yet upon arrival he was told she was gone by the Lady Angela.
"Do you know where she might be?"
Angela thought for a moment, "She won't like that I told you, you must promise not to go after her."
"I shall not go looking for her if she wishes to have privacy."
This seemed to satisfy Angela, "When she disappears it means she's dressed as a servant to go riding alone, really it means she wants to think without interruption."
"Thank you Angela," Booth gave her a small bow and headed off down the hall.
"I mean it Booth, she does not want to be disturbed!" Angela called after him to which he smiled in response.
He wandered down towards the stables sending a boy ahead to prepare his horse. Surely if he went out riding and ran into her it could only be regarded as a coincidence, he told himself.
A band of gypsies loitered in the yard selling things to fascinated residents as he went by. A blonde woman caught his eye and suddenly made towards him.
"You're a knight, is that correct Sir?" she stopped in front of him.
"Yes, I am Sir Booth, may I help you?"
Her eyes lit up, "Ah, Sir Booth, a friend of the Princess."
"Yes," he said slowly, "What is that to you?"
"I read her cards today, perhaps I might read yours?"
Booth gave her a quizzical look, "You read the Princess' cards? I do not think she believes in fortune telling."
Avalon shrugged, "She does not, she made that clear despite what they said."
This caught Booth's interest, "And what did they say?"
She gave him a coy smile, "I cannot reveal that but I could read yours, though I think you follow the church's guidance rather than the stars."
"You would be right madam," he replied, then gave her a grin, "But you may read my fortune this once."
She gestured for him to come to a barrel where she spread her cloth for the cards.
"Cut the deck," she instructed him.
Booth turned over the cards and Avalon gasped in horror.
"What is it?"
The gypsy's eyes were wide, "The Princess, she is in great danger, you must go to her now!"
"What danger? Where?"
"The forest, there isn't much time. Go to her now!" she urged him, pointing towards the castle gates, "Now Sir Booth, now!"
Avalon's frantic warnings rang in his ears as he took off at a run towards the stables.
The horse panted as she slowed it to a canter, she had ridden hard and fast, her own breath was ragged. Yet the wind in her hair, the methodic thump of the hooves was what she needed to escape her mind. She knew there was a stream up ahead and she took the mare in that direction when movement caught her eye. Up ahead a young man stepped onto the path, he was dirty and his clothing in poor shape, a beggar probably, hoping she would give him a coin.
"M'lady," he flagged her down as she approached.
Keeping a firm hold on the reins she walked the horse closer to him, "Good day sir," she replied, her tone casual.
The man was younger than she thought, his beard patchy on his thin cheeks. There was a hunger in his eyes that she pitied.
"Might you spare a coin? My weans need bread, please m'lady?"
The mare's head twitched and she shied slightly as the man reached up to Temperance.
"I did not bring much," she tightened the reins, hushed the mare then dug in her pocket to see if she had anything to give him.
Temperance didn't hear the footsteps behind her, didn't notice the others creeping up. It wasn't until the horse began to stamp, throwing her off balance for a second that she realized something was wrong. As she righted herself the beggar grabbed the reins and jerked the mare tilting Temperance to the other side in the process. This time she slipped only to be yanked by the waist off the horse landing with a thump on the ground.
"Well well, what d'we have here?" leered a man standing above her.
"What..." she gasped, the wind had been knocked out of her, "What is the meaning of this?"
Glancing around she saw she was surrounded by three dirty men, the beggar now holding her horse.
"There ain't any saddle bags, if she's got anything it's on her," the beggar, who she now knew to be a thief called to the others.
"Even if she got nothing she's still worth something," another gave her an evil grin.
"She's a pretty maid, isn't she?" a man with salt and pepper hair answered, "Looks clean and well fed to, she must have some money on her."
Temperance shifted on the ground getting her feet under her, ready to spring, "Leave me be," she told them, mustering up as much courage as she could.
"I don't think so," a scraggly man with reddish hair replied, "Now are you going to turn out your pockets or shall we do it for you?"
As he took the first step towards her she sprung to her feet and rushed him, knocking him to the ground. As he lay stunned she got up only to be grabbed from behind. She could smell the man's rotten breath and she kicked at his shin with all her might. He howled in rage but let go yet her freedom was short lived. The salt and pepper haired thief grasped her arm and pulled hard, she toppled to the side lashing out with her other arm. She was swung to face him and that's when she saw the flash of the knife. As she threw her left arm up in defense he brought it down and it drove into her arm.
Staggering back in pain she clutched at the knife still embedded in her arm. As a pair of hands took her shoulders she shrieked in panic.
"Stop that now Poppet and maybe you'll live to see tomorrow," he hissed in her ear.
Temperance thrashed but he kept a hold on her, pain seared through her arm like fire.
"Bring the rope," the man behind her ordered, "And fetch her horse, we'll go now."
Two other horses had materialized beside the beggar, she could see their saddle bags which bulged with ill begotten goods, she knew them now for highway men. The man she had kicked in the shin limped towards the beggar, the other followed when he suddenly stopped, made a feeble sound and dropped to his knees.
She heard the whoosh of another arrow and the second man was felled, her own captor now dragging her away from the action. He swore in her ear as they both heard the hooves of more horses.
"Stop in the name of the king!" a deep voice called out as Sir Wendell's horse flew onto the path.
The thief was pulling her as he ran though she tried to loosen his grip. The beat of hooves drew closer and then they were both knocked off their feet, but her captor did not struggle to get up as she did.
"Bones!"
Strong hands shoved the thief away, she saw the sword wound in his back but she stayed on the ground.
"Bones, are you alright?"
Sir Booth dropped to his knees beside her as she cradled her arm to her chest. Blood was seeping through her sleeve.
"Oh God," he breathed and drew her close, "It's going to be fine," she could hear him trying to convince himself as much as her.
The small knife still stuck out of her arm. With a deep breath and against her better judgement she grasped it and extracted it in one swift move. Booth's eyes widened in horror as he placed his own hand on her arm to staunch the blood.
He could feel her trembling against him, he could see the fear still in her eyes.
"Shh, it's over, I'll take care of you," he tried to soothe her and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, "I'm here, it's alright," he whispered into her hair.
The Countess and Zach were in the Princess' chambers leaving Angela and Booth to pace nervously outside. He had ridden back to the castle with her in his lap, a swatch of his shirt bandaged around her injured arm. She had curled into him the entire time and kept quiet, which scared him the most.
A creak jarred him from his thoughts and Zach scurried out of the room, a bowl with the bloody bandages inside in his arms. Cam emerged and smiled at them.
"She's fine, I stitched up the wound, she's resting now."
Booth sighed in relief, "Can I see her?"
"She's asking for you," Cam gestured towards the door.
Inside Booth found Temperance sitting at her desk, papers spread around her as she wrote furiously, her left arm still drawn into her chest like a broken wing.
"What are you doing Princess?" he asked softly.
Startled she turned to him, "Booth...the roads, they're not safe, I am drawing up documents that would have more soldiers patrol them."
"Cam said you should be resting."
"I'm fine," but her eyes told another story.
Gently he placed his hands on her shoulders, he felt her freeze.
"It's alright, I won't let anyone hurt you, not ever again."
"How did you find me?" she whispered.
"Avalon," he paused, "she said you were in danger."
Slowly she turned in her chair to face him, "You found me, you saved my life."
"As you did for me."
A moment passed before she gave him a hesitant smile, "Then we are even," her words were meant to break the charged energy she felt between them yet Booth still watched her, his brown eyes taking her in.
"Temperance, I must confess something to you," the use of her first name made her stand, she looked a question at him.
"I've wanted to tell you since I woke up from the fever..." he trailed off, she could see him struggling for words.
"You can tell me anything Booth," she urged him on gently.
Large hands took her own as brown eyes bore into blue, "I, I love you."
He watched as a series of emotions flashed through her eyes which widened in shock. Soft lips parted as if to protest his confession but clamped shut again as her eyes fell to the floor.
Booth silently chided himself for voicing the treasonous thoughts that should have stayed buried in his mind. Bleakly he wondered if he had ruined everything, if their friendship could survive her rejection which he knew was coming.
"Princess," he breathed, voice low and defeated, "I should not have said that..."
Blue eyes flew back to brown and only then did he see that hers were glassy with unshed tears.
"No," came her whisper, "you should not have confessed that. You risk your life uttering those words, you should not even think them."
The warmth of his hands on hers fell away, he was about to flee but her fingers found his guiding him back to her.
"Wait," she pleaded, "I don't deserve your love, your affection or friendship. I cannot love you, I cannot be with you-"
"Bones," the agony was evident in his voice, he turned from her, she could tell his eyes were red.
"And despite these things, I still love you."
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as Booth quickly turned back to her, "What?"
"I love you Booth."
Agony melted into shock as he stared at her but only for a second before he closed the distance between them and his lips crashed into hers. A fiery passion erupted between them, his fingers twisting in her hair, her own tracing his muscles. When they parted, both breathless, he held her in his strong arms;
"What have we done?" he whispered into her hair, the reality setting in.
Booth's heart hammered beneath her ear, her own keeping pace, "If anyone finds out..."
Shaking her head she pushed the thought away then released herself from his embrace.
"No one can know," she finished.
Fear shone with tears in her eyes, Booth felt it too knowing what danger they had just put themselves in. He cursed himself for giving into temptation, for opening Pandora's box by saying those three little words.
"They already suspect," the words fell from his lips.
Blue eyes widened in terror, "Who?"
"Sweets made an accusation some time ago, I was able to dismiss it. Cam, she knows what happened when I was feverish," he ran a nervous hand through his hair, "This is too dangerous..." the heavy truth hit him, "We can't do this," he finished solemnly.
Do you believe in fate? The words swirled in his mind as he watched her face, watched as the reality of their situation dawned on her. It would be impossible for them to be lovers, only terrible things could happen if anyone ever found out.
Tears now fell freely down her cheek and he reached out to wipe them away;
"We cannot change our stars Princess," he felt his own tears fall, "And I won't put you in harm's way," he stepped back from her, "I'm so sorry," the words were thick with emotion.
Quickly he turned from her, his strides long and then he was gone, the door of her chamber closing like the lid of a coffin. She stood alone crying freely now with a new found understanding of fate.
It was late, the full moon shone bright through his open window, casting the room in soft light and shadows. The castle slept quietly but sleep would not come to him, not tonight. Tonight he gazed out at the stars and cursed them, cursed whatever entity fate was for it's cruel ways. Across the room his traveling trunk lay open, his things tossed in, others on the floor having missed their mark. On the desk lay a hastily written letter asking the Prince to come so that he could be released.
As he sipped wine he heard the door creak open, a woman slipped inside, her eyes already adjusting to the dark, already noticing how the room had changed.
"Don't go," her soft voice pleaded, cutting through the silence in the room.
"It is the only option."
He could barely hear her soft footsteps approaching the bed yet felt when her weight came down on it. A warm, slender hand took his own.
"We'll find a way," she whispered.
To be continued...
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