AN:Thanks for the awesome reviews and all of the alerts. It's greatly appreciated. Also, if you have any questions about the story, feel free to visit my Tumblr, which is just my pen name.
Anyway, this chapter is unbeta'd! Gasp! My super mega awesome foxy hot Beta is super busy and I figured I'd give her a day off. I apologize for any mistakes and comma splices. They are my weak point.
Thanks and enjoy.
Chapter 3
When Philippe begins to sweat and snort Brittany slows him down to a walk. She grips onto his mane hard and bites at her lip. She travels down the same path she knew her father started out on, and keeps her eyes wide; constantly searching for any sign of what happened.
Their progress feels painfully slow to Brittany who is aching to find any clue about her father's whereabouts. After a few hours, she slumps her shoulders, releases her grip on Philippe's mane and relaxes her legs.
"Okay, Philippe," she says, petting the horses neck. "You lead me to him, alright?"
Philippe continues his silent walk.
/
When the path curves sharply and branches out into two different directions, Brittany knows she needs to go right. The right path heads towards the festival. The left path is one she has never been on. Her left heel moves up to Philippe's belly, but she stops herself. She inhales deeply and waits to see where the horse leads her. Philippe takes the right path and Brittany hopes he's leading her to her father.
After a long time of walking and scouring the path, Brittany sees a sign post ahead. She clicks her tongue to Philippe and presses her heels into his sides, urging him to move faster. She grips onto his mane and stops him in front of the sign post. The arrows pointing in different directions are blank. Brittany stares at it for a long time.
"Which way did he go?" She asks no one in particular.
She looks down both paths.
She digs her heel gently into Philippe's right side.
"Left it is," she mumbles.
/
They've been walking for a while and Brittany isn't pleased. The path is rocky. When Philippe stumbles on one of the many holes in the road, Brittany lurches forward. She holds onto Philippe's neck and pushes herself up.
She steadies herself on his back and looks ahead. The sun is slowly making it's way lower into the horizon. The light is changing and casts eery shadows. Brittany shivers slightly. Her eyes adjust to the waning light. She urges Philippe forward.
He moves at a steady gate that Brittany urges into a trot. Her skin crawls as the sounds of night begin to pervade the air. Dusk weighs heavy around her making her feel claustrophobic. When Philippe stumbles slightly and an odd twang echoes through the air, Brittany jumps and squeaks in fear.
She pulls against Phlippe's mane, slowing his trot down and coming to a halt. She turns around and looks. She can make out the outline of the source of the twang. A violin sitting at the edge of the road.
She gasps and stares at it for a few more seconds before kicking her heels into Phlippe's side and starting him at a trot again.
As the sun begins to disappear she pushes Philippe harder. She bites her lips. The dark will do her no good and in her haste she left without any source for light. Philippe is swift and his feet sure over the tricky road. They move forward for a while before Brittany sees it in the distance.
The castle. It appears, as if it has risen out of the ground. It's towers are sharp and it's contours dark. It casts shadows everywhere in the twilight. As Brittany approaches it she can't help but stare at it, mouth slightly open. She hasn't seen a castle in so long.
She's never seen one with so much menace.
She slides off of Philippe's back and pushes the heavy, metal gates open. They creak. She shivers.
"Come on," she whispers to Philippe.
/
They're in the same sitting room they had tended to Maurice in the night before.
"I can't believe she did that," Rachel says, staring into the fireplace.
"Why not? She's horrible."
"Quinn," Rachel says, turning to look at her.
Quinn is sitting with her legs crossed in a tall, red armchair. "What? She is. That curse has killed us all. It's turned us into...nothing."
"Quinn," Rachel says, voice quiet. She turns around and crawls across the floor to sit in front of Quinn. She holds up her hand and it hovers above Quinn's knee. She pauses for a moment and retracts the hand before saying, "We're not nothing. We're just..."
"Trapped," says Quinn, staring hard at Rachel.
Rachel looks down and twists her hands together.
"Speaking of trapped. Have you talked to Finn lately?"
Rachel's head jerks up to look at Quinn. Her eyes dart back and forth between Quinn's before she turns her body around, leaning her back against the chair and looking at the fire. "I don't think he wants to talk to me."
"Well," begins Quinn, but she stops.
"What?" Asks Rachel, turning to look at her.
"Did you hear that?"
The two girls go quiet. The only sounds in the room are the erratic crackles from the fire.
"Hello?" A faint voice echoes in from the entrance hall.
Quinn is on her feet and moving out of the room before Rachel can say anything.
/
Brittany stands in front of the double doors for a long time before working up the nerve to push one of them open. When she does she turns to look at Philippe. "Stay," she commands.
The horse snorts at her in response.
She slips in through the door and pushes it shut behind her. She looks around the dark, empty entrance hall and stands for a few moments. It's completely silent.
Until she hears two very faint, muffled voices coming from her left. She takes a few hesitant steps forward before calling out a very timid, "Hello?"
Nothing happens. Nothing stirs.
"Hello?" She calls again, this time a bit louder.
Brittany moves farther into the castle and looks around. Everything feels so cold and empty. She looks up at the high ceilings. In the dim light she can't make out the architecture, but she's seen castles. She knows this one must be beautiful.
Or it was at some point.
"Hello?"
Brittany jumps and turns quickly. A blonde girl, with short hair appears out of a doorway farther into the entrance hall. "Hi," Brittany says, unsure of what to do.
When another darker haired girl appears behind her she smiles. "Hello," she says again.
The blonde girl moves towards Brittany. "Are you lost?"
"Well," Brittany begins, glancing at the dark haired girl.
"Why don't you come have a seat?" The blonde girl offers, smiling softly.
"Quinn," the dark haired girl says, moving forward quickly. She offers Brittany a smile before turning on the blonde girl, Quinn. "Have you learned nothing?"
Quinn steps forward, closer to Brittany, ignoring the dark haired girl.. "I'm Quinn," she offers.
"Brittany," Brittany says, smiling. She's never had girls her age to just talk to. Girls that weren't completely in love with Jesse St. James and his hunting stories, that is.
"Brittany," Rachel gasps.
"Maurice's daughter?" Quinn says, eyes widening.
"You know my father?" Brittany asks, taking a step forward and reaching out a hand. She pulls it away quickly, realizing she has no idea who these two girls are. "Is he okay? Is he here? I've been looking for him and I found a violin and Philippe helped."
"Philippe," says Rachel, looking around the entrance way.
"Our horse," Brittany supplies.
"Oh."
"Your father is here," says Quinn. Her voice is deeper and quieter.
"Is he okay?"
The two girls exchange a look.
A yell echoes from somewhere deep in the castle. The girls freeze.
"Oh no," Rachel says, eyes darting around quickly.
Brittany feels panic building inside of her. "What's wrong?"
"Rachel, go to her. Keep her away," Quinn says, grabbing Brittany's hand.
"What are you going to do?" Rachel asks as Quinn drags Brittany away.
"I'm taking her to her father," Quinn says.
/
Quinn moves fast, as if she's trying to outrun something. Brittany follows, letting herself be led through corridors and up and up stairs.
"Brittany, I'm really sorry," Quinn says after a while.
"Why?" Brittany asks, pulling her eyes away from the thin windows in the wall. She can see almost everything from such a high place. She can't seem to find Philippe, though. She turns her attention back to Quinn.
"We wanted to help him but she just..." Quinn looks away.
"What are you talking about?" Brittany asks in a serious voice. "Quinn, is my father okay?"
They've stopped by a wooden door at the top of the stairs. Quinn sighs and pushes it open, waiting for Brittany to go in.
Brittany very slowly steps over the threshold and looks around the tower. It's a dungeon. "Father?" She asks quietly.
"Brittany?" A small voice replies.
"There," Quinn says. Brittany turns to look and see her pointing to the closest door.
Brittany runs to it and sinks to the floor. Her father is reaching a hand out through a small gap covered in metal bars. "Brittany. How did you find me? Why are you here?"
"I'm here to get you," Brittany says. She grabs his hand and holds it close to her face. "I thought I'd lost you."
"Brittany, you have to get out of here," Maurice says, hurriedly. "Quinn, is Quinn here?"
"I'm here," Quinn says, stepping closer.
"Quinn, please get her out of here before Santana sees her," Maurice says.
Quinn doesn't move or say anything.
"No, I can't leave you here. Why are you trapped here?" She turns to Quinn. "I thought you said you wanted to help? Let him out!"
"Brittany..."
"Let him out, Quinn!" Brittany can feel the tears prickling in her eyes. The room feels electric. There's an urgent current running through her father and Quinn that is almost palpable. Brittany doesn't fully understand why, but she can't help the way her stomach clenches and her palms begin to sweat.
/
"Finn," Rachel splutters when she sees Finn coming towards her down the stairs.
He stops when he sees her. He opens his mouth to say something but Rachel interrupts.
"What were you doing in the West Wing?"
Finn's eyes seem to darken and he looks down at his feet before back up at Rachel. "Hello, Rachel." He sighs. "I was just asking Santana about the new horse."
"What new horse?" Rachel asks, eyebrows scrunching together.
"The one that was just standing outside of the doors," Finn says, shrugging.
"What?" Rachel stops. Her eyes widen. "What did she say?"
"She said I must be getting more stupid every day or something. She doesn't know why there would be a horse here," Finn says, watching Rachel's face carefully. "Why, whose horse is it, Rachel?"
Rachel's eyes widen. "She didn't say anything about Maurice, did she?"
"Who?"
"Rachel!" Santana's voice echoes around her.
Rachel looks around Finn. Santana is standing at the top of the stairs, watching her.
"I thought about how we could have a new horse. It seems impossible, especially if Finn here had nothing to do with it." She steps down the stairs slowly. "So, that got me to thinking. If Finn didn't get the horse and that old man is locked in the tower...someone must have come looking for him."
Rachel opens her mouth to say something.
"Take me to them," Santana growls.
/
"I don't have the key, Brittany," Quinn says.
"Who does?"
Maurice and Quinn fall silent.
Brittany looks to her father through the grate and back to Quinn. "I'll go ask," she says, standing and moving towards the door.
"No, stop her!" Maurice yells from his cell.
"Brittany, wait," Quinn says, jumping in front of her. "It's more complicated than that."
"Uncomplicate it," Brittany says, staring hard at Quinn.
Quinn opens her mouth to speak.
"Yes, Quinn, uncomplicate it for us all," a voice sneers from the doorway.
/
Brittany's body jolts and takes a few steps backwards. The new presence in the room takes up so much space, fills every corner and crevice with wild energy. Brittany moves closer to her father and drops to her knees again, holding his hand through the bars.
"Who is she?" The voice asks harshly.
Before anyone can respond Brittany speaks. "This is my father."
She can feel everyone watching her.
"He's done nothing wrong, let him out," Brittany says, turning her eyes on the cloaked figure standing in the shadows. One dimly flickering torch and moonlight don't give enough light for Brittany to see her father's captor.
"He's a trespasser," the voice hisses.
Brittany looks back to her father. "Please," she says, turning to the figure. "He's sick."
"He's...he's my prisoner," the voice says.
Brittany squeezes her fathers hand. "Father," she whispers through the bars.
"It's alright, Brittany," her father says, squeezing her hand back. "I'm alright, please go. Get out while you can."
Brittany releases his hand and rises to her feet. She takes a few steps away from the door. Her eyes remain on the cold, stone floor. "Take me instead," she says, looking up at the figure.
"Brittany, no!" Her fathers cry echoes around the stone chambers.
Brittany curls her fingers into fists and squeezes hard. Her nails dig into her hand and she grits her teeth at the pressure. "Please, I'll stay in his place, just let him go," she pleads.
"You would do that?" The voice softens.
"Yes, I love him," Brittany says, glancing back to the cell.
"Fine," barks the voice. The figure sweeps quickly across the room. Brittany flinches at each clink of metal. "Finn!"
A young man stumbles into the room. He straightens up and glances at Rachel as he walks towards the figure. "Take this man," the voice snaps.
"Where?" Finn asks, glancing at the man who is struggling to his feet.
"Father," Brittany says, moving forward.
"Now!" The voice echoes shrilly in the small tower prison.
Finn glances from the figure to the man and reaches out a trembling hand to grasp at his shirt. "Come on," he says, quietly.
"Wait," Brittany says. She takes another step forward, eyes widening.
"Go!" The voice yells.
Finn glances to Brittany and before clutching at Maurice's shirt. He pulls him away. Maurice attempts to fight against Finn. Finn grips him tighter and pulls him away from Brittany, out of the tower.
The figure steps in front of Brittany, blocking her from following her father. When she tries to step around the figure steps with her. "We had a deal," she hisses.
Brittany takes a few steps backwards. She leans against the door to her fathers prison cell. Her eyes begin to prickle, her chest tightens. "You didn't even let me say goodbye," she whispers.
The tower is silent.
"Santana," Quinn speaks up from her place along the wall. She takes a step towards Brittany. "Why don't we move Brittany to a room?"
Santana turns, glaring at Quinn.
"She will be staying here...a while," Quinn says. She moves to Brittany and places a gentle hand on Brittany's shoulder.
Brittany's reaction is immediate. She releases the tightness in her chest and allows herself to cry. She wraps her arms around Quinn's middle, pulling her into a tight embrace. Quinn stiffens, before wrapping her arms around Brittany shoulders and rubbing her back. "I know," she whispers into blonde hair. "I'm sorry."
Santana scoffs at the display and turns away. "Rachel," she says, voice sharp. "Do we have a room...suitable?"
Rachel jumps and takes a few quick steps forward. "Well, yes. I believe we have one or two that are...liveable."
"Fine," Santana says, moving towards the door.
The movement isn't lost on Brittany. She detaches herself from Quinn quickly. "Wait," she says, sniffling. She wipes her eyes across her face. She opens her mouth and closes it quickly, eyes widening.
"What?" Santana asks after a few seconds. She glares at Brittany from across the room.
"Step into the light," Brittany says so softly.
"What?" Santana repeats, voice lower.
"Step into the light," Brittany says clearly.
The entire room tenses, as if everyone is holding one large breath.
Santana takes a few hesitant steps forward. When the light hits her, Brittany gasps. She takes a step back, towards Quinn, and lowers her head.
Santana shrinks away from the light quickly.
/
Brittany sniffles and wipes at her eyes. "I can't believe I didn't get to say goodbye. I'm never going to see him again.
"I know how you feel," Quinn says. Her voice is heavy and she hesitates on the stairs for a second before moving down them, Brittany in tow.
"At least you aren't staying in the tower," says Rachel, offering a small shrug.
"Be quiet," Quinn snaps, turning her head to shoot a look at Rachel.
"I didn't mean for her to find you, Finn went to ask her about the horse," Rachel says, quickly.
"It doesn't matter now," Quinn says.
All three of them fall quiet. Brittany keeps her eyes on the stone steps beneath her feet.
/
When Santana's voice echoes through the corridor, shouting for Rachel, Rachel ducks around Quinn and disappears around a corner. Brittany watches her the entire way and continues to stare even after she's gone.
"Where is she going?" She asks Quinn.
"Probably to the West Wing," Quinn sighs, heading in the opposite direction of Rachel. "Santana resides up there."
Brittany nods, even though Quinn is walking in front of her.
"Never go up there," Quinn warns, turning to look at Brittany.
"Why?" Brittany asks automatically.
"Never go up there," Quinn repeats, turning around and moving forward.
They turn a corner and then Quinn stops suddenly. Brittany nearly runs into her. "This will be your room," Quinn says, pushing down the handle of a door. She stands back to let Brittany in.
Brittany steps in hesitantly. The room is bigger than her entire cottage. The bed against the wall opposite her is plush. There is a wardrobe, vanity, a small lounging chair by the window. "This is...my room?"
"Yes," Quinn says, stepping in beside her and looking around.
"It's so..."
"Dirty," Quinn says, frowning.
Brittany turns to look at her. "I was going to say big."
/
"Santana?" Rachel asks timidly, peaking around the open door.
The room is in shambles. A chair lies broken in the corner. The vanity mirror is shattered. Pictures have been torn off the wall.
"Where is she?" Santana spits. She steps away from the small table sitting by the double doors leading to her balcony.
"Brittany? She's in the East Wing. Quinn is taking her there," Rachel says, stepping fully into the room.
Santana paces back and forth. "Why would she do that?"
"What do you mean?" Rachel asks in a small voice.
"Why would she do that?" She nearly yells, stopping mid stride. Santana's fists ball at her sides and she slams them on the small table.
Rachel and Santana both jump when the glass cover for the rose that hovers a few inches above the table is jostled. Santana seems to collect herself. She places a gentle hand on the glass case and looks down at the rose. The glass is cool against her warm palm. Her forehead relaxes. Her fingers clench, nails digging fruitlessly at the glass.
"She's to stay in her room at all times. Until I say otherwise. I don't want her wandering around my castle," Santana says, voice low and hard. She keeps her back to Rachel.
"I...yes," Rachel relents, folding her hands together in front of her and looking down. "Anything else?" Her voice is small, resigned.
Santana shifts her hand to a new spot on the casing, a cooler spot. "Dinner. She should eat dinner."
"Dinner is at eight," Rachel says quietly.
Santana doesn't move. "Get out," she says, voice low.
Rachel hesitates for a moment before retreating.
/
Brittany stands in the middle of the room. She turns her body slowly, taking in everything new around her. She lets her eyes wander over every piece of furniture, every window, every corner. This is her new home.
She can feel Quinn's presence at the door.
"Brittany," Quinn says in a slow voice.
"Don't worry about it. You've been so nice to me," Brittany says, turning her head and offering a weak half smile.
Quinn opens her mouth but closes it quickly, looking away.
Footsteps echo in the corridor outside the open bedroom door. Brittany perks up and turns to look. Rachel pops her head into the room. Brittany can tell by the look on her face that she isn't happy. Her eyes stay downcast, her shoulders are slumped slightly.
"You're to stay in your room, unless told otherwise," Rachel says. "Quinn and I have things we need to do." Rachel glances at Quinn who is glaring at her hard. "Dinner is at eight." Rachel places a hand gently on Quinn's arm. Quinn snatches it away and leads the room, giving Brittany one last, long look.
When the door clicks shut, Brittany swears she hears Rachel whisper a very soft 'I'm sorry.'
She inhales deeply and tries to exhale just as steadily. She sniffs, her shoulder shake with the effort of trying to keep her breath from catching. Her eyes prickle painfully until she has to blink. Big, hot tears roll from her eyes. Her legs feel like jelly as she moves to the bed and sinks onto it. She wraps her arms around a pillow and cries.
/
Santana sits at the long dinner table. Her left hand rests on the wood, fingernails tapping impatiently. "Where is she?" Santana barks at Rachel, who is standing against the wall.
"She...," Rachel says, stepping forward. "She said that..."
"What?" Santana snaps, turning roughly in her chair to look at Rachel.
"She...refuses to come down," Rachel says, barely above a whisper.
Santana's eyes narrow. She stands up, shoving her chair back with such force it crashes to the floor. She moves quickly around the table and leaves the dining room.
Rachel glances around quickly, unsure of what to do before following Santana.
She finally catches up to Santana's long strides outside of Brittany's room. Santana bangs hard on the door three times. "I thought I told you to come down to dinner."
A few muffled noises. "I'm not hungry."
Santana's eyebrows push down and she opens her mouth to yell.
"What are you doing?" Quinn's eyes are wide.
"She...she didn't do as I told her," Santana says, turning to face Quinn. Her teeth are grit together, her hands knotted in the loose fabric of her skirt.
"Well, she isn't one of your cursed servants, is she?"
Rachel takes a step back from the two girls, glancing at the door.
"Quinn," Santana hisses out. "I don't feel like dealing with you right now."
Quinn folds her arms across her chest. "She isn't going to listen to you if you keep treating her like one of us."
Santana mirrors Quinn, crossing her arms. "I don't understand."
Quinn scoffs. "Ask her nicely if you want her to join you so badly."
Santana's entire body stiffens. She glares at Quinn and turns to the door. Heat rises to her face.
"Will you come down to dinner?" Santana asks in a quiet voice.
"No." Brittany's voice echoes through the door.
Santana turns quickly to Quinn, eyebrows up, pointing at the door.
Quinn smirks at the look on Santana's face. "Maybe try saying please."
Santana's eyebrows seem to knit almost completely together. She glares hard at Quinn for a moment before turning back to the door and crossing her arms again. "Would you come down to dinner...please?"
"No, thank you!"
Santana feels her anger snap inside of her. "You can't stay in there forever," she barks at the door. Her arms uncross and stand rigid at her sides.
"Yes, I can!"
"Fine," Santana snaps, turning to Rachel and Quinn. "If she doesn't eat with me, she doesn't eat at all." She turns quickly away from Rachel and Quinn, walking swiftly down the hall.
"That went well," Quinn says, knocking softly on Brittany's door.
/
Santana bursts into her room, anger fueling her forward. "Asking politely in front of Quinn. Stupid," she says to herself. She kicks a chair out of her way. She paces the room back and forth.
She knows she shouldn't put so much effort into a prisoner. She certainly didn't with Maurice.
She doesn't even know why it matters if she has dinner with the girl or not. She doesn't know why she wants to. Why she wants to see what her blue eyes look like in proper lighting.
She stops pacing in front of the small table. The rose is glowing so very gently in the dark room. She picks up the hand mirror sitting beside it. Her reflection is something she thinks she'll never grow used to. If she looks hard enough, though, she can sometimes see herself in it. Her beautiful self...or at least a shadow of her old self.
"Show me the girl," she says to the mirror.
The glass flashes and Santana's reflection melts away. She can see Brittany's room and Brittany sitting on the bed. Quinn is sitting beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"I know it seems bad," mirror Quinn says.
"Seems bad?" Brittany stands up, shrugging off Quinn's hand. "It is bad, Quinn. I don't know why you're still here. Being trapped inside this dingy castle with that horrible...thing."
Santana's face falls. She feels like her heart plummets out of her chest, through her stomach, through her feet and seeps into the dirty stone beneath her. She sets the mirror face down on the table and places a hand on the glass cover for the rose.
A petal falls heavily towards the table top.