Title: Princess of Darkness
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Santana/Brittany
Rating: T
Spoilers: Yes, but nothing major.
Summary: They were all mythical. Some were more obvious than others, like Finn, he was the son of a Giant, or Tina, she was the daughter of a Vampire, or even Brittany, the daughter of an Angel. And others were a bit more challenging, like Quinn, she was the daughter of a Fairy, or Artie, a son of a Wizard.
Author's Note: I made some of you cry, I'm sorry. ;) This chapter is going to be a little…abstract and when you read it, you'll understand.
Jaz- I think you were the only one to notice that about Brittany., at least the only one who commented on it. I wanted it to come across as a force that pushed them all together because without Sofiel, Santana would stay dead with Brittany following soon after, and without Brittany, Santana's soul would have moved on, and without Lucifer, Santana wouldn't have been ready for the war or Brittany's love.
Thank you for the reviews and the favorites and the alerts!
Disclaimer: Nope, not today, nor tomorrow, but…Just no.
/
The darkness was all over. It surrounded her, enveloping her in a cocoon of midnight warmth. The only sound was her own soft, even breathing. The rise and fall of her chest, the only actual movement. There was no ring that came with silence, it was dead quiet. Something was soothed in the Darkness, the feeling of being completely alone, the stillness in the air, the indigo-black that surrounded her being, she was truly one with herself.
She kept her eyes closed in a relaxed manner. She didn't need to open to see what was around her. She lived with this inside of her, she didn't need to see what it looked like. She felt it and it was comforting to her ravaged form.
The Darkness felt drained and rested. Her memories of her last moments tugged at her barely-there subconscious, trying to call her back to a second where she was as free as she was now, when she was sailing through the air. Indigo waves of black brushed her ruffled feathers down, composing her still body. She leaned farther into the dark hands that gently cupped her soul.
A gentle smile came about her lips as the darkness caressed her. She didn't ache in this empty abyss with unmeet desires, not like she had in the realms. She didn't miss her injured Father, she didn't want a Mother, she didn't feel hallow without Brittany by her side, responsibility didn't weigh her down. She was nearly happy.
Black seeped into her mind.
The Darkness eased an eye open, the content smile still resting on her lips. She brought her hand in front of her face, wiggling the fingers slowly. Nothing marred the hand that had been kept covered for years by a magical seal. She calmly closed her digits around the palm and placed it back into the darkness.
She wasn't in any pain.
She had never not been in pain. Her hand continuously ached with a burning and need to itch. Her muscles were always sore from training. Her fingers throbbed dully from her music lessons. Her back screamed in agony from her wings needing to be kept secret. Her right arm had always had the feeling like it was asleep. To feel nothing, nothing at all, she would have wept as she relished the fact if she wasn't in peace.
She wondered if this is how other people felt on a daily basis, absolutely nothing to the point of being numb.
Thinking of other people, Brittany's face sat in her head. How was she? The Darkness wanted to think, but the indigo kissed her cheeks. She let out a heavenly sigh and allowed her eyes to droop.
"Are you new here?" Brittany asked, licking her ice cream cone. Her and Santana sat on a bench at the park after Santana bought the blonde a strawberry ice cream. Santana basked out in the light of the sun, her face tilted up to catch the rays on her skin. "Santana?"
"Hmm?" The girl hummed, briefly moving her attention to Brittany.
"Are you new here? To Ohio?"
Santana didn't answer right away. Brittany was about to ask again when the tan girl nodded. "Yeah, I guess."
"You guess? Isn't it a yes no kinda deal?" The Angel laughed merrily. Santana shrugged. Brittany watched her frown and look up directly at the sun, not blinking at the glare it sent her. "You shouldn't do that. It'll ruin your eyes."
"Not mine."
"So, if you're kinda new to Ohio, where do you live?" She asked, licking her fingers where pink ice cream dribbled down.
"Not in Ohio."
The blonde stopped. "But you do to school in Lima."
"I know." Santana answered back easily.
"Then…where do you live?"
"Somewhere far."
"Like another state?"
"Sorta."
"San, I don't like playing Twenty Questions, I always lose." Brittany whined, a pout on her lips. The darker girl grinned, letting out a laugh. "Don't laugh. Tell me where you live."
Santana removed her gaze from the sun to stare at the girl across from her on the park bench. "I don't think that it's a good idea." She admitted.
"You won't tell me your last name, you won't tell me what you are, you won't let me come to your house, and you won't tell me where you live." Brittany exclaimed, jumping up and throwing her unfinished ice cream in a near by trash bin and walked off. Santana was close behind. "I feel like we're not even friends."
"Britt, it's not like that-"
"You know everything about me. My favorite color, my favorite candy, my pet's name, my favorite dance number, the music that makes me cry, but I know nothing about you."
"I like red. I love skittles. I don't have any pets because I think it's cruel. I love watching you dance, and I've never cried to any song."
"See?" Brittany half smiled. "Was that so hard? Now why can't you tell me what you are or where you live?"
"Because I don't want you to be afraid of me."
"What's there to be afraid of?"
"Everything."
Brittany held out her pinky. "If I pinky promise not to be scared, will you tell me?" Santana eyed the pale pinky that was in between the two girls. Slowly, she reached forward and wrapped her tan pinky around the Angel's. "I pinky promise not to be scared of what you tell me." Brittany vowed.
"I live in the Underworld. Lucifer's my Father."
The Angel smiled. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah."
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" Santana asked after a confusing minute, pulling her finger back to herself.
"If you were going to hurt me, you would have done it before."
She should have been afraid. She should have run, leaving her in the dust. She wouldn't be hurting now. She would be worried in the Upperlands, about her Grandfather and Father who would have made it through the battle.
The Darkness snapped her eyes open, her breathing picked up becoming labored. The indigo-black hands smoothed back her hair, rubbed her arm, pet her cheek. She calmed and went back to her blissful state of unknowing.
Black crawled across her functionless brain.
She didn't want to think. She didn't want to feel. She didn't want to breathe. It was too much. The black silence wasn't enough, her thoughts swirled, making her fidget. An ache came back, in the joint of her wings. She felt the sting when she was alive, but this was the first time she felt it since coming to her sanctuary. She let out a sharp breath.
No.
She wasn't suppose to feel in this place. This place was suppose to protect her, it was suppose to take all her pain away, but she could feel it returning. She willed the comforting darkness to take her pain once more; she didn't want to feel it.
She didn't want to feel the heartbreak of her Father being hurt. She didn't want to feel her heart lurch against her ribcage when that arrow plowed through his chest. She didn't want to feel the loneliness that lingered from her childhood because her Father was gone and she had no Mother. She didn't want to think about what her Mother looked like and if she would have liked her. She didn't want to see the disappointment in Brittany's eyes when she did something the Angel didn't approve of.
She didn't want to.
You're closing the greatest part of you. A voice whispered in the back of her head, sounding like Nurse Alma. The old woman had told her that when she confessed she didn't want to love anyone after seeing what her Father went through when he lost her Mother.
"Ew, that's so gross." An eight year old Santana scrunched her face, watching Belle and the Beast kiss in Beauty and the Beast. Nurse Alma, who asked her to watch the movie with her, laughed and pat the child's head.
"One day, child, you will find someone you love and you will kiss them like that."
"I don't want to find love."
"Because you don't want to kiss them?" Nurse Alma asked patiently, turning the volume down on the TV, and angling her body towards the Princess.
"Because Papa's broken." The little girl muttered softly.
"Spitfire…" The Demon woman's face wilted at the young child's words.
"It's true. Papa fell in love with my Mother and when she left, so did he." Santana looked off to the side. "I hear him crying at night. He doesn't think I know, but I do. I know I look like her, like my Mother and that it's hard for him to see me. I don't want to do that to my child, make them feel bad about who they look like."
"He lost your Mother."
"I know that!" Santana got off the couch and paced, running a hand through her hair. "I know that." She said softer. "But I lost her too and I lost him, whether he knows it or not. I don't want fall in love if this is the kind of pain it'll cause."
"But then you're closing the greatest part of you. If you don't love, your heart won't be open and you would become cold."
"Wouldn't that be better than being in pain all the time?" The child asked, a pleading tone in her voice. Nurse Alma shook her head and gathered the girl in her embrace.
"No, it wouldn't be better. To feel happiness, to enjoy and appreciate it, you need to feel pain. You need to hurt to understand what waits for you at the end."
She could feel the frigidness coat her bones. She was becoming cold like Nurse Alma had said, but it didn't make her hurt. It eased the hurting. It made her soul lighter, bearable to carry around. But she couldn't be happy about it. Brittany wouldn't love her if she became cold. Her people wouldn't like her if she became cold.
She squeezed her eyelids shut, breathing deeply, not accepting the help from the darkness to calm her down. She needed to think. Santana. Who was that? The Darkness found herself unable to get up. She attempted to push herself to her feet, but the indigo-black hands wrapped themselves around her body, holding her to the spot she lay. Santana, if you can hear me, let me in. The voice was pushing her, trying to gain access to her sanctum.
The Darkness frowned and mentally fought the force as hard as she could. Santana, you need to stop fighting me. It was a trick, it had to be. The darkness around her was trying to trick her like it did before, luring her into a false sense of security to control her.
Santana, it's Mama. It's your Mama and I'm here to help you, but I can't if you don't let me in.
"Ma-ma?" The Darkness croaked.
A dim light appeared in the distance.
TBC…