AN: This story, despite being the last one I publish, was the first of the three stories I have written for the 2021's Valentine's Day Challenge. The requirements for the stories are:
1. Genre: Romance; Romance/Adventure; Romance/Humor; Romance/ Suspense.
2. Victoria cooks – Of course
3. Don Alejandro bumps his head – Not only him
4. Felipe runs interference – And wishes he was blind
5. The Alcalde has his plan thwarted – Twice
6. Mendoza rides on Tornado – Poor man!
7. Diego or Zorro is shirtless (at some point, not necessarily during the entire story) – Not only shirtless and this time he is even conscious
8. Includes an unexpected spin on the already 'classic' kiss reveal – This story includes two kiss reveals, actually:P
9. Must be published in full by February 14th, 2021 – Will be
10. Max. 3 chapters. Word count doesn't matter – Yes, but they are long ones
11. Must have a happy ending – Don't all my stories?
Before leaving you to it, I just want to thank my wonderful Beta, La Cuidadora, for her advise and corrections, as well as the other ff authors (such as Katie1999 and Kasiaeliza) whose stories have inspired some of the ideas in this one.
Rated T for references to pre-marital sex, rape and some violence, but does not include any graphic depictions of such scenes.
Enjoy and leave a review if you do! They take far less time than a story to write.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
A small, green lizard made a run for the safety of some nearby rocks as it heard the thundering noises of the horse hooves coming towards it. Had it stuck around longer, it would have ended up squashed by either Tornado or one of the eight garrison horses following him.
Zorro had just provoked De Soto by releasing an American trapper he had imprisoned for trying to sell his pelts in Los Angeles. The Alcalde had arrested him and confiscated his pelts, in an attempt to capture his nemesis, but, instead, soon found himself at the wrong end of the masked outlaw's sword. He was just crossing the plaza to have lunch when the masked menace appeared out of nowhere, rapidly disarmed him, then forced him to release his prisoner and return to him his goods. When the Yankee was already on his way, he complimented Victoria Escalante, as he usually did, and left to the people's acclaims.
Embarrassed by his nemesis once again, De Soto ordered Mendoza to take his lancers and run him into the ground. So, as usual, the lancers mounted their horses and followed him, through the hills and shallow ravines northeast of Los Angeles, until they lost track of the outlaw, and they, once again, returned to the garrison empty-handed.
Zorro, however, did not arrive home that day. Neither did Tornado.
ZZZ
Felipe only became concerned the following morning, but decided not to worry too much since, had anything happened to Zorro, either Tornado would have returned without his rider, or people would have already known about it, and nobody in town knew anything more than that he had escaped the previous day. Furthermore, it was not unheard of for Diego to find that his help was needed by someone else while he was riding as the masked legend.
Having had already agreed to accompany Don Alejandro and his vaqueros to a cattle auction in Santa Barbara, the young man thus left that day hoping that his adoptive father would be there upon their return. Two weeks later, though, when they arrived back with twenty new cows, a bull and five new horses, still finding the cave empty and his father missing, Felipe did become quite concerned.
As soon as he was free to do so, he started riding into the hills, following the routes he knew Zorro usually took to mislead the lancers on his way to the cave. That was how, on the second day of searches, while studying the ground, he found something worrisome: Zorro's mask under some bushes situated about seven miles away from the pueblo. Looking around after recovering it, he noticed a strange ray of light coming from the nearby river, and headed that way. There, half-buried in the mud, he found his father's sword.
Unsure what to do next, only certain that, wherever Zorro was, he had Tornado but his secret was compromised, the young man decided to return to the hacienda and prepare for the eventuality in which he needed to get him out of prison, save him from the gallows, or save Don Alejandro and/or Victoria from the Alcalde's wrath.
Once several plans were in place and clothes, as well as various supplies were hidden in caves and hideouts around and in Los Angeles, he returned to his search for Diego.
In the meanwhile, Don Alejandro had also started fearing that something might have happened to his son, considering that he had left for Santa Paula some twenty days earlier and had still not returned. After finding out that Diego had neither arrived to his destination when he was supposed to, nor had he been seen since he had left the hacienda, the old don decided to mobilize the entire garrison to go look for him. Felipe tried to dissuade him, fearing that his actions might only get Diego in deeper trouble than he already was, but the old don was much too stubborn to listen, and the younger man was unwilling to betray his father's secret before he knew for sure where he was and what had happened to him.
Somewhat to his relief, about the same time Don Alejandro was doing his best to convince De Soto to organize a search party, news arrived about an Indian attack on a group of new colonists coming from the south. The half-naked tribesmen had kidnapped two young women, badly injured eight of the men, destroyed several wagons, and left after stealing weapons and various other items. More worrisome, still, according to the settlers, the Indians were heading south, for the Mission of San Juan Capistrano.
Considering the gravity of the attack, and the danger the Natives posed to the Mission, the search for Diego was, thus, postponed, and the search for the aggressive Indian tribe was organized instead.
Don Alejandro, forced to assemble a search party of his own, had the pleasant surprise to find that several other dons, vaqueros, and farmers mobilized to help, both out of respect for him and out of friendship for Diego. That was how, the following day, some three weeks after the young caballero had left, a group of fourteen people, including Don Alejandro and Felipe, headed north, towards Santa Paula, hoping to find the man they were looking for.
That same day, only three or four hours after their departure, the rogue Indian tribe attacked Los Angeles. With most of the lancers and the Alcalde gone, as well, on their way to Capistrano, the pueblo was at their mercy.
ZZZ
Over two weeks had passed since they had been taken. They had ridden and walked towards the mountains and, as they did, the weather was getting colder, even if it was still summer. In all that time, they had been kept with their hands (and feet, during the night) tied up and their mouths gagged, forced to sleep on the cold, hard ground, eat and drink only twice a day while several men and two women supervised them, and were forbidden to talk to each other during the meals. Worse still, since the day they were taken, the Indian women who were accompanying the warriors burned their clothes and forced them to dress as they did - in leather dresses which reached just to their knees, and high leather boots through which they could feel every stone -, then painted their faces and hair, changing the way it looked to make them seem Indian.
On the afternoon of the eighteenth day of their march, they arrived to a rather large Indian settlement, hidden in a valley situated between two steep mountain tops.
It was not hard for one to realize why they had been taken. The tribe was full of young, able-bodied men, yet lacked many women. The few there and the handful of children looked curiously towards the new arrivals and, strangely enough, also towards one of the Indian men.
Victoria had noticed him before. He was injured when they were first taken from Los Angeles, and had not participated in the raid. Every evening, as they made camp, the Wolf Head Man – as Victoria took to referring to the tribe's leader in her internal dialogues, since he was dressed in pelts and wore a wolf's head which covered his own – had been applying some herbs on his wounds to help him heal. He was taller than everyone else, and his hair seemed shorter than the men of the tribe wore theirs. Just like the other men, however, he was barely dressed, wearing nothing more than leather pants and boots, and his face, neck, shoulders and back were heavily painted.
About an hour after their arrival, the tribe gathered around a big fire and the Wolf Head Man started chanting in a strange language, the same Victoria had heard them speak on their way there. The eight young women who had been abducted from Los Angeles by the tribesmen, as well as the other ten who had been abducted during previous raids, were forced to kneel on the ground, and a strange kind of auction started.
The Wolf Head Man pointed his staff towards the first woman to his right, uttered some words and five men stood up. A fight between them commenced as the entire tribe was shouting encouragements to the combatants. It lasted for about ten minutes, until one prevailed over the others, and, standing up to his people's acclaims, he left dragging the woman with him, headed for one of the mud houses.
The scene repeated several more times as the women to Victoria's left were, one by one, claimed by the tribesmen.
When her turn came, she only saw the man who had abducted her stand up, and felt her fear soaring to new heights at the thought that she'd be handed over to him. He was nothing but a big brute, prone to violence, as he had demonstrated not only when he attacked the tavern, but also on their way to the settlement. Several of his teeth were missing, his head was half-shaven and not even the paint on his face was able to hide a big, ugly scar on his cheek.
Moments later, the tall Indian also rose to his feet, and the young woman breathed relieved. For some reason, that man didn't seem as dangerous to her.
The Wolf Head Man hesitated, and started speaking. She didn't understand a word, but it appeared that he was trying to dissuade the tall man from claiming her as he started pointing towards a young girl. The child looked to be no older than twelve-years-old, and Victoria realized that the leader intended on offering her to him. He was unsuccessful, however, so the Wolf Head Man eventually gave up and allowed for the fighting to start.
When it ended, an eternity later, she found herself in the arms of the tall Indian man. She was too weak and worn out to even struggle, relieved it was him who'd won the fight and not that brute, so she simply allowed him to lift her up and go away with her, tears the only resistance she put up. Behind them she heard the fighting continue, but the truly worrisome noises were the ones coming from the houses near the one towards which the man was carrying her.
She wasn't sure whether to be frightened, appalled or angry. The one certainty she had was that there was no hope for her, just like there was no hope for the other women. Her entire future was gone, changed in a second, and all her dreams were never to come true.
The man lay her down on several furs spread on the floor on top of each other, then tied the entrance to the house with some leather strings which sealed together the pelts hanging from above the doorway.
He didn't say a word, just made the fire before cutting off the ropes tying her hands and legs. When, for a moment, she considered trying to escape, he pushed her to lie on the furs as he lay on top of her, pinning her in place with the weight of his body. Then, taking off her gag, he kissed her.
It felt somewhat strange since she was used to kissing Zorro and the man who had claimed her had no mustache to tickle her upper lip. She did her best to resist his kiss, and made sure to force her mouth shut as his tongue tried to gain entrance. Rather frustrated, he sat next to her and placed his hand on her knee, slowly lifting her dress as he caressed her naked leg. Victoria tensed and sighed. To her surprise, he stopped at noticing her hesitation. Instead of forcing himself on her, as she expected him to, the man got up and reached for a large fur, which he draped over both of them as he lay down just looking at her.
Victoria remained there, still tense, quickly glancing at him from time to time, expecting that, at any moment, he'd decide to get back to where he had left off. She only realized he was not going to do anything when she noticed that he had fallen asleep.
It was only then that she took some time to consider her options. Escape was not, she realized, one of them, since she had no idea where they were and which way she needed to go to return home. Nor was she certain she could make it. At least, not alone. Eventually, she had to admit that being rescued was her only chance. With her possibilities limited, she prayed for Zorro to soon find her, then allowed herself some sleep.
ZZZ
Victoria woke up in the early morning and, for a few moments, she was certain to have heard Zorro calling out her name. Lifting herself to sit, she looked around the empty house, then stared at the man next to her, noticing he was turning and tossing, no doubt prey to some sort of nightmare. With a deep sigh she had to accept that it had been nothing but an illusion, a trick her mind played on her, just like the few times she had believed to see Tornado in the woods during their march there.
Seconds later, just as she was again considering taking the chance to escape, the man next to her stood up suddenly, breathing heavily, then glanced at her and took her into his arms, forcing her to lie back down on the pelts, her head resting on his broad chest. That was the first time she noticed he had blue eyes.
ZZZ
It was a strange morning for Victoria, the first she spent with the tribe. The Indian women came for the new arrivals and took them to a large house while the men all entered another. They washed and renewed the paint on their faces, ate together, then separated into groups, each heading in a different direction.
"Are you alright, Victoria?" A familiar voice asked her as they were following the tribeswomen through the nearby woods.
"Teresa? Is that you?" She wondered, unsure if it was her friend under all that paint. The young woman had been one of her best friends when they were children, but, since she started managing the tavern, cultivating their friendship had not been a priority, so they barely saw each other those last few years.
"Yes, of course it's me!" She replied. "We need to find a way to escape. I don't think I can endure another night here."
"Has he harmed you?" Victoria asked hesitatingly.
"No… I've always hoped to be raped by a savage!" The woman answered sarcastically. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be so… rude. I know you lost as much as any of us, and I doubt the brute who claimed you took any mercy."
Victoria didn't know what to say, so she decided that telling her friend they had merely slept together was just rubbing her good fortune in her face.
"When they are not looking, we need to go!" Teresa insisted, and her friend doubted whether to follow her or remain behind. Getting back to Los Angeles all by herself was absurd to even contemplate, but, perhaps, together, they might stand a chance. Part of her was willing to try in the hope that she still had a chance to a future with the man she loved. On the other hand, should they be recaptured, as they most probably would be, the Indian who had claimed her might give her to someone else or rape her as punishment for her attempt to leave him.
"No!" She decided against pushing her luck. "We can't. There's nowhere to go. We don't even know where we are and in which direction Los Angeles is. If we try to escape they will just capture us, and who knows what they'll do then? Unless Zorro or the lancers manage to find us, there is no escape, Teresa!"
"Do you think he might find us? Zorro, I mean. I thought he would have already. He must have long since learned about our abduction, but he still hasn't come. I'm not sure anymore that he will, Victoria." Her friend whispered as two of the other women turned their heads, seemingly upset to hear them talk amongst themselves.
Their discussion stopped as they started the day's work. The Indian women showed them some plants and fruits they needed to gather, made them repeat the words they used to describe them, and gave them each a basket.
At lunchtime they returned and helped the other women cook for the tribe's men, an activity which helped Victoria's state of mind more than anything else, since cooking had always been something she loved doing. When the meal was ready, everyone sat down, in no particular order, and ate together. The Spanish women found their way to each other, but the looks the men gave them and the immediate shouts they heard when they tried to talk in their language silenced them pretty easily.
As she ate, the taverness couldn't help herself from glancing, every minute or so, towards the man who had claimed her. He was sitting somewhere to her right, engaged in a discussion with the tribe's leader.
After lunch, the men all came for their women and returned with them to their houses, so Victoria's man did the same, taking her by the hand, and guiding her towards the place in which they had spent the previous night.
Again she wondered if he would decide to do what the other men were doing with their women in the houses around them. They could hardly avoid hearing their groans. Had her skin not been so covered in paint, the man with her would have noticed her redness. He had yet to speak to her, just as she had yet to speak to him, but what were they to say to each other when they didn't even speak the same language?
Victoria watched him closing the improvised door and return to her. Part of her was expecting that he'd again pin her down with his body, and not stop at an attempt to kiss her this time. Instead of proving her darkest thoughts right, he just lay down next to her as he had done before, caressed her face, letting his hand linger on her hair, then embraced her and pulled her to his chest. Victoria felt truly lucky to realize he still didn't seem to want to force her to do something she wasn't ready to do, certainly not with him.
The evening of the day following their arrival, as the tribe once again gathered around the big fire, the Wolf Head Man and the members of the tribe started debating and, as conclusions were reached, each new member was assigned a new name. Hers was Muwaar. Her 'husband' they called Kaweewesh, and only then she realized he was not originally a member of the tribe.
A few more days passed much like that first one, and Victoria soon found herself thinking about the man with whom she was sharing the small mud house more often than she thought about Zorro. She was still hoping he might come for her, but was also unable to deny the fact that she was becoming more and more attracted to Kaweewesh, as her gaze was constantly fixed on him.
He seemed stronger than the other Indian braves, never missed his target during their training sessions, and always defeated any other warrior who challenged him. He also had a true gift with the horses, liked playing with the children, and seemed kind to everyone there. Something about him reminded her of the man she had once promised to marry.
Since she was not exactly hiding herself when watching him, Kaweewesh also started noticing her gaze and recognized it for what it was. So, a few evenings later, he decided to try kissing her again. This time she allowed him to give her a real kiss, and soon found herself longing for more. When their lips parted, she involuntarily lifted her head, reaching for him, hoping he'd kiss her again. Seconds later she pulled back and just stared at him.
"Why do you kiss like him?" She wondered aloud, without explaining anything else, somewhat certain he didn't understand her anyway.
"Kiss like him?" He repeated and she felt a shiver at recognizing his voice. "Like whom?" He asked in perfect Spanish, surprising even himself to realize he spoke her language.
"Like Zorro!" She asked with a whisper, holding her breath.
"I am Zorro. That is what my name, Kaweewesh, means in your language: fox. And yours means 'Luna' (en. moon)." He explained, only managing to confuse her further.
Instead of asking anymore questions, Victoria just kissed him again, and he responded by kissing her back just like before he was Kaweewesh, during the time when he was Zorro. She could hardly believe it, but there was no more denying the truth. He was the man she loved. He had been her hero when she was in dire need of one; now he had transformed into an Indian so they could finally be together. As the realization that is was the man she loved who lay next to her washed over Victoria, all her barriers and inhibitions disappeared.
This time, it was she who guided his hand under her dress as she hungrily devoured his lips, then focused on his bare chest. He needed no more invitation to free her from the confinement of her brown, long-sleeved dress as he, too, freed himself from the confinements of his pants and proceeded to make love to the woman in his arms.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" She asked when they had finished and were lying there, naked and still entangled, trying to catch their breaths.
"Tell you what?" He wondered.
"That you were Zorro! I was waiting for you to come free me… free us, and all this time you've been right here… You slept with me every night, and didn't tell me who you were!" She reproached him. "And you allowed these savages to treat us as if we were nothing more than cattle!"
"I don't understand." He replied. "Why do you keep calling me Zorro? It may mean that in your language, but my name is Kaweewesh."
Victoria stared at him dumbfounded, unsure if she had just made the biggest mistake of her life, or she was right and he was the man she believed him to be.
ZZZ
In all this time, Don Alejandro was in mourning. He mourned his son - whom he had been unable to find, and started to believe was lost to him forever - and the daughter of his heart - whom the Indians had taken before disappearing without a trace. He, just like the other dons, farmers and peasants to have lost someone they loved in the raid, had organized tens of patrols in the days and weeks after he had first learned about the abductions. He had searched most of the territory around Los Angeles, always returning empty-handed, until, one day, he started to make his peace with the idea that he might never again see either Diego or Victoria.
Felipe, however, was unwilling to give up hope. He still rode out as often as he could, expanding his search towards the south, checking every abandoned building and cave on a twenty-miles radius of Los Angeles.
It was on one of those rides, this time as he headed south-east of the pueblo, that he discovered the abandoned saddle and bridle Zorro used when riding Tornado. He stared at them for a long time, then studied the nearby terrain, finding old imprints made by several dozen horses, as well as remains indicating the campsite having been used by Indians. From that moment on, Felipe started suspecting Diego's disappearance was, in fact, connected to the aggressive tribe which had been raiding the territory several weeks earlier, a suspicion he, however, did not share with his adoptive grandfather since he dared not explain yet how he had reached his conclusion.
A few weeks after Victoria was taken, her younger brother, Ramon, arrived in Los Angeles for a visit. He was expecting to find his sister in the tavern, and was deeply troubled at being told the news of both Victoria and Diego having gone missing. After making sure the establishment was properly managed, even if it was no longer profitable as he needed to hire more help to replace his sister, he joined Don Alejandro's search parties, his optimistic nature encouraging the old don to keep searching.
Then, one day, the most unexpected thing happened.
