AN: Thanks for the reviews and alerts. I know the updates are getting farther and farther apart but I've had super crazy work schedules these past few weeks and then my car broke and I got sick and it's just been so crazy. Anyway, this chapter is unbeta'd because I'm being lazy.
Also, I know a few people have said things about Santana's appearance/whatever else. If you have any questions/comments/concerns, you can find me at tumblr as Penelope Cross. Anyway, enjoy.
Chapter 5
Brittany runs like she never has before. Her feet are light beneath her as she bolts through the castle. She isn't sure how she manages to find her way out; the corridors and passages through the hall all look the same and she can barely see past her tunnel vision her heart beat has swathed her in. She does though, luckily all stairs seems to filter back to the entrance hall.
She pushes open one of the heavy wooden double doors and flies down the stone path.
The air is cool and whips around her as she runs, pulling at her hair and the hem of her dress. It feels nice on her skin, which she realizes now is hot, very hot. She feels like her blood is on fire, ignited by fear and adrenalin and whatever else has become caught up in the torrent of emotions she's feeling. She inhales a gulp of air and doesn't stop moving until she's pushing open the creaking gates. When the gate is open enough for her to squeeze through her feet take off again. Her chest feels like someone's squeezing it and her breathing is labored, as if she's just spent hours chasing children through the town square.
She doesn't think about Quinn or Rachel or Philippe.
She can only think of Santana. The way Santana's eyes burned angrily makes Brittany's scalp tingle and fingers clench at the fabric of her skirt as she runs.
She heads down a dirt path for what feels like days. Her heart is beating so hard against her chest – harder than it ever has – and she's afraid it's going to explode. Her feet won't slow. She wants to leave it all behind; the curse, the castle and Santana and her dark, deep eyes. She won't stop until she gets home.
She's afraid if she does, she might turn back.
There are still so many mysteries around the castle and it's inhabitants.
She stumbles, lost in thought. Her foot catches in a hole in the road and she tumbles hard to the ground. She rolls onto her back and remains there, unmoving feeling clumsy and hopeless. She breathes deeply, in and out, trying to still her frantic heartbeat and shaking hands.
When her breathing becomes her own again and her chest begins to rise and fall evenly she pushes herself up into a sitting position, crossing her legs under her skirt. She sighs, closing her eyes. After a few moments she opens them and looks around.
The trees surrounding the path are naked for the winter, their spindly arms rising into the air at jarring angles. Brittany follows the path of the branches up until she locates the only source of light she has. Her eyes have adjusted to the darkness and as she stares nearly full moon hovering over head, she's afraid she'll lose her keen sight. She can trace the thumbnail shadow, the space the moon has left to grow until it hangs heavy and complete.
She watches the moon for a few moments longer before standing up and dusting off her skirt.
She looks around, unsure of what to do next.
Her sigh covers the sound of a twig snapping in the woods behind her.
/
As Brittany disappears down the hall Santana closes her eyes tight. She moves her hands from the glass case to the side of the table and squeezes tightly.
She's gone.
You're alone.
She yells out her frustration and turns. Her eyes scour her room looking for something – anything – she can hit or kick or damage.
Everything is already broken.
She exhales a small sob. Her forehead creases. She turns to the table and grabs the hand mirror. She keeps her eyes closed. "Show me the girl." Her voice is barely above a whisper.
She waits and then opens her eyes.
Brittany appears in the tiny mirror, glancing at her surroundings. A feeling flows over her skin, like water sliding down her back. She can't pinpoint it. Her breath steadies as she watches Brittany turn, trying to determine her location.
She grips the handle to the mirror tightly and moves to her four poster bed, holding onto one of the posts for support. She mouths Brittany's name.
She sees movement behind Brittany in the mirror. Her heart skips a beat when she sees the creature slinking forward, closer, closer.
The mirror barely makes a sound as it drops onto the bed, the image of Brittany turning towards the woods flashing across the surface.
/
Brittany turns sharply, staring hard into the trees. She could have sworn she heard a sound. It was low like a hum or a–
Not a growl. She shakes her head, trying to banish the thought. "I'm out here alone and got a little spooked," she tells herself, knotting her hands into the fabric of her skirt. "There's nothing there."
A distinct growl filters through the trees.
Brittany's heart skips a beat. She feels blood draining to her feet, making them unresponsive and heavy. She stands still, unable to move or breath.
The wolf slinks from the trees. It's teeth bared, it growls low and deep.
The sound roots Brittany to the spot.
The animal slinks forward, circling around Brittany.
She let's her eyes follow it, but can't bring any other part of her to move. She watches as it sinks low, it's muscles taut. It lunges at her.
She isn't sure how she manages to duck her body down and roll, but she does. Heart hammering, she pushes herself up onto her knees. She turns around and sees yellow teeth, red gums, glinting eyes and throws her arms up for protection.
/
The wolf whines and topples off Brittany. She looks up, startled to see it roll across the ground away from her. Her eyes dart away from the wolf, trying to figure out what happened and she sees it, a cloaked figure approaching the wolf quickly. The figure is menacing in the moon light and moves with an anger and energy that Brittany recognizes.
"Santana?" She whispers.
/
Santana picks up another rock, holding the heavy stone in her hand. She glances at Brittany once to see if she's alright and averts her eyes quickly when she sees Brittany staring hard at her.
The wolf springs to it's feet and turns to Santana, growling.
Santana grips the rock and feels her jaw tightening painfully, teeth grit together. She raises her arm and throws the rock as hard as she can. The wolf ducks and lunges again.
/
Footsteps. That's what it sounded like. People running, yelling.
Rachel wanders down the halls looking for any sign of the commotion she is sure she heard.
Sleep was hard to come by for Rachel that night. She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like decades before finally falling into a light sleep. Her body jolted awake, though, after what felt like only seconds. She was dreaming about running or chasing, she can't quite remember the details and she tripped, body jolting her out of her dream. Resigned to the fact that sleeping probably wasn't coming for her that night she got up and wandered around the castle, stopping in random rooms to check what state they were in.
She was about to head towards the west wing when she heard the noises echoing through the corridors.
She stops at the bottom of the stairs to Santana's part of the castle. Exhaling, she follows the steps up.
The door to Santana's room is open.
Something in Rachel's heart flutters in an anxious way. She moves quickly to the door, staring into the room. Everything looks the same, but Santana is gone.
A flash of something catches her eye.
She steps cautiously into the room, toward the bed. She looks down at the mirror. She watches, wide eyed as a wolf lunges at Santana, teeth sinking into her arm. She gasps, hand flying to her chest.
She runs from the room, willing her anxiety to quiet down as she makes her way towards the stables to find Finn.
/
Santana cries out in pain as the wolf's teeth sink into her arm. She falls back hard and feels the air leave her lungs. The sensation is terrifying. No matter how hard she tries she can't quite get enough air or the right kind down into her lungs. She tries not to panic, but air isn't flowing and the wolf weighs heavy on top of her. She chokes out a noise that sounds horrifying in her head. The wolf's teeth rip into her skin. It growls, hot breath making Santana's stomach summersault.
"Hey!" A voice echoes around Santana.
The wolf growls and releases her arm, snapping at her face. She uses her right arm to punch it hard in the muzzle, left arm cradled close to her chest. It's a desperate move and the only thing she could think to do. The wolf whines lightly and pulls away from Santana.
"Hey!" The voice calls again.
The wolf whines, something collides with it's side; Santana can feel the force behind whatever hit it causing it to back off of her, claws ripping at her dress and cloak. She reaches up with her right hand again and rams her fist straight into the wolf's soft nose. It whines loudly and scrambles on top of her, trying to distance itself. She pulls her leg up and kicks the wolf hard in the side. The wolf stumbles but recovers quickly, baring it's teeth and sinking low to the ground.
Thinking quickly, Santana picks up the closest thing to her, a heavy rock. When the wolf lunges again she meets it head on with the stone. The blow lands with a sickening crack and a high pitched whine from the wolf. It slides to the ground, lying limp.
Santana let's the rock fall and pushes herself a few feet away. She inhales deep gulps of air. It's cool and refreshing and smells like the woods. Woods she hasn't been out in for so long. Her eyes drift up towards the clear night sky...
"Is it dead?" A shaking voice asks.
Santana jumps and turns quickly.
Brittany is standing a few feet away from her, a stick hanging loosely from her right hand.
Santana doesn't say anything. She looks down at her bloody hands and the gashes on her arm. She takes a shaky breath and tries to stand.
There's a lot of blood. It runs out of her like water.
Her body feels light, like she hasn't eaten for days.
She blinks a few times and the world around her becomes muffled until it disappears completely.
/
Brittany drops the stick and moves forward.
She's never been more confused about what to do in her entire life. Santana's body is limp on the ground in front of her.
Brittany's eyebrows knit together in deep concentration. She moves to Santana's side and kneels down, sighing. She knots her hands in her skirt and pulls hard, wincing at the sound of fabric tearing. The cold air on her newly exposed feet makes her shiver. She reaches out slowly and wraps the shred of cloth around Santana's bleeding arm gently. She pulls a firm knot to keep it in place, watching Santana's face for any sign of movement or anger.
She frowns and delicately places a hand on Santana's chest.
She feels the girls heart thumping against her hand.
She exhales a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Why did you do that?" She whispers into the night.
/
"If you don't hold still and let me clean it then it'll get infected," Rachel says, bossily. She moves the warm cloth to Santana's arm and gently wipes it across the sensitive skin.
Santana hisses, teeth bared. Brittany thinks her resemblance to the wolf is striking and finds herself giggling.
Three sets of eyes fall on her. She feels her cheeks flush with embarrassment and looks down at the red carpet she's sitting on. She's huddled in the corner of a sitting room off of the entrance hall, the same room she saw Quinn and Rachel emerge from her first night in the castle.
Quinn is the first to direct the conversation back towards Santana. "Quit whining," she says. Her arms are crossed over her chest.
"Don't tell me what to do in my castle," Santana snaps, throwing a glance at Quinn.
"Santana," Rachel begins in a soft voice. "We want to help you. We want what's best for you. It will only hurt for a second."
Santana scoffs. "What good have you two done me?" Her eyes fall to the carpet.
Rachel's movements still and she adjusts herself on her stool.
Brittany frowns slightly and stands up. She feels all eyes on her again as she moves across the room and kneels down by Santana's chair. "May I?" She asks tentatively, staring up at Rachel.
Rachel opens her mouth, but closes it quickly. She nods and offers Brittany the warm, damp rag she was using to clean Santana's wound. She stands from the stool, offering it to Brittany. Brittany remains kneeling on the floor, eye level with Santana's arm.
Santana's breath catches slightly in the back of her throat. She pulls back, sitting as far into the chair as she can.
Brittany dips the rag into the small basin of hot water by the stool. She squeezes out the excess and brings it to Santana's arm. She wipes it gently around the edge of the bite marks.
"You can't just treat people like that," Brittany says suddenly.
Her eyes snap to Brittany face. The girls expression is firm, concentrating on the task at hand. "They're my servants," Santana says automatically.
"They're still people."
Santana pauses for a beat, unsure. "Well...what do you know about it? Nothing."
"Possibly," Brittany says softly. She moves the cloth closer to the wound. Santana's muscles tense and she grabs the arm rest hard. "But I know a lot about things most people don't know about."
Santana pauses, narrowing her eyes at Brittany. She searches Brittany's face for any crack or crevice, any sign of a joke. Brittany's expression stays firm, almost protective. She dips the cloth back into the water and grimaces at the pink tinge it's now sporting.
"Like what?" Santana scoffs.
Brittany's hand pauses. She sighs. "Well, I know about dancing." She dabs gently around the nearest bite mark. "I know about the clouds, I spend a lot of time watching them. I know which ones mean storms and which ones just mean it'll be a cloudy day. I know about instruments."
"How is that helpful?" Santana's voice isn't as harsh as it was before. Curiosity overcomes the anger.
Brittany sighs, face softening just enough that Santana feels it's solely for her. She flinches as Brittany gently rests the cloth on a bite mark and wipes away the drying blood. Her grip on the arm rest tightens. She flinches again, harder, when Brittany's soft hand lands on her own. Santana's eyes snap up to Brittany's face. Her heart beat picks up, face becoming warm.
Brittany glances down at the bite marks. She blows cool air on the wound to soothe the pain she knows Santana must be feeling. She looks up to Santana again, keeping her face as serious and as gentle as she can. Without a trace of humor Brittany states: "Because I see things most people miss or overlook or ignore." She stares boldly into Santana's eyes, waiting for a response.
Santana's heart flutters and she ducks her head to look at her arm, eyes sliding down to the hand resting on her own. Brittany's skin is moon pale against her darker tone, even darker now with only the crackling fire to light the room. The contrast speaks to Santana, telling her something she doesn't fully understand. Her eyes wander Brittany's delicate fingers, smooth skin, up her slightly freckled arms. She stops.
"Thank you for saving my life," Brittany says quietly.
Santana's eyes follow the rest of the path, up her neck, past Brittany's slightly pink cheeks, up to meet deep blue. "You're welcome," she replies quietly. The words feel foreign in her mouth.
/
"We need to talk," Quinn's voice snaps. Santana jerks, startled out of her own thoughts.
She turns sharply, glaring hard at Quinn and feeling accosted. "You can't just barge into my room," Santana spits back at her. She crosses her arms over her chest.
"Why didn't you tell me you could leave?" The words tumble out of Quinn's mouth quickly. Her voice wavers slightly.
Santana's body relaxes and her forehead wrinkles. "What are you talking about?" She narrows her eyes at Quinn.
"You left the castle to get Brittany," Quinn says, voice low. She speaks slowly. "Why did you not tell me you could leave?" She nearly screams the last word.
Santana takes a step back. She opens her mouth and then stops. Her head tilts slightly. "I didn't know," she says, barely above a whisper.
"What?" Quinn barks.
Santana shakes her head. "I didn't know." She shifts her feet. "I didn't know I could leave...I wasn't thinking."
Quinn's snarl disappears, but her forehead stays crinkled. Her eyes dart across the floor as if she's looking for something she's dropped.
"Quinn?"
"I tried to leave. I stood by the gate and I couldn't even move."
Santana takes a half step forward, repositioning her weight. "What do you-"
Quinn turns and leaves before Santana can say anything else.
/
Brittany wakes up, but keeps her eyes closed. The cloud soft bed beneath her is so different from her cot at the cottage. She exhales softly and her eyes flutter open. She stays still and stares at the canopy above her.
Some part of her is a little surprised to find that she's still in the castle, that this isn't a dream. Another part of her is surprised that she isn't upset about that.
She throws the covers off of her body and stretches like a cat. She sits up and swings her legs over the bed. She looks around. She still can't believe they gave her a room that's so...big.
"More space than I know what to do with," she mumbles.
She stands up and moves around the room, inspecting everything. The vanity with a very thin layer of dust on it. She smiles at her reflection in the mirror and picks up a brush, dusting it against her nightgown, and runs it through her hair. Her eyes wander over the wardrobe standing in the corner of the room and land on the curtains.
They're heavy looking curtains. She crosses the room and reaches out hesitantly. Their gold and red pattern looks too regal and delicate for touching. She places a hand on the fabric and wrinkles her nose. It's dusty, the fabric mealy and dry on her fingertips. She wrestles to pull the curtain back, coughing as a puff of dust is released into the air.
Sunlight streams in and Brittany watches the dust float around the room like snow. She squints her eyes against the bright rays of the morning sun and pulls the second curtain back as well. The room brightens.
"Much better," she says, smiling.
/
Her dress from last night is still ripped. She found a dress in the wardrobe and pulled it on, hoping no one would mind.
She walks through the hallways of the castle, stopping every time she sees a closed curtain to pull it open. Every one releases a plume of dust that makes her nose wrinkle and throat dry. By the time she makes it to the entrance hall she feels like if she sneezes again her nose will fall off. The castle feels less claustrophobic, though, knowing that that the windows are open make Brittany feel like she has more room to move.
When she reaches the top of the stairs in the entrance hall, she realizes she has no idea where everyone congregates in the morning. She purses her lips in concentration before flitting down the stairs to check the den she helped clean Santana's wounds in the night before. Her shoulders slump when it's interior proves empty. There are three more doors in the entrance hall, she's about to try another when Rachel's voice reverberates around her.
"There you are!"
Brittany turns quickly, heart beating a bit faster. She feels like she did when she was a kid and her father would find her stealing sugar from the cabinets. "Oh, hello," she says, clearing her throat.
"I went to fetch you from your room but you were gone," Rachel says, taking a few steps down the stairs. "Come on, I've got some breakfast made for us."
"Oh," Brittany says, feeling relieved. She relaxes, her stiff shoulders slumping naturally. "That's so nice." She joins Rachel on the stairs.
"What's nice is you," Rachel says, smiling. Brittany notices how it feels different than usual, not that she's been around long enough to notice a usual smile Rachel has. It's softer, as if she's in deep, pleasant thoughts.
"You're nice too," Brittany says.
Rachel playfully rolls her eyes. "Just this way."
Brittany tries her hardest to pay attention to the different corridors Rachel leads her through. She tries to find objects lining the walls or paintings to use at landmarks. The kitchen feels like a vital place to learn to get to.
Rachel motions for Brittany to step and first. Brittany curtsies to her, playfully and walks into the kitchen. It smells warm and sweet, like the bakery that Brittany and her father used to
Her father. The thought dulls everything around her, the smells, the way the kitchen looks during the daytime, the sound of Rachel scooting a plate of roles towards her.
"Brittany?"
"Yes?" Brittany replies, realizing Rachel must to have said her name at least two times. "Sorry, what is it?"
Rachel tilts her head slightly. "Would you like a sweet role?"
"Most definitely," Brittany says. The bread is still warm in her hands and her mouth literally waters when she takes the first bite. Her tongue feels like it's going to burst. She didn't know you could put so much flavor into just one bite. "This is fantastic," she mutters around a mouth full of bread.
Rachel grins at her and nods. "They're Santana's favorite."
Brittany stops chewing for a moment. She blinks a few times before resuming to chew, much slower. She swallows hard, eager to ask a question. "Rachel," she pauses. "Is she alright?"
Rachel sets her role back on the plate and wipes her hands on a cloth sitting close by. "She probably needs to have her bandages changed," Rachel mumbles, frowning at the table. "I think she'll be fine. She's probably more shocked than anything."
"I would be too, that wolf was terrifying. We were lucky," she glances up at Rachel.
"Yes," Rachel says slowly. "Yes, I suppose that would be shocking."
Brittany's eyebrows scrunch together. She tilts her head slightly and opens her mouth to answer a question when Quinn bursts into the kitchen. Brittany jumps a little in her seat, turning to look at Quinn. Her hair is sticking out slightly in places, her eyes dark, her body stiff.
"Rachel," Quinn begins, but stops abruptly when she notices Brittany sitting at the table as well.
"Quinn?" Rachel prompts.
Quinn straightens up, her face softens. She wipes her hands over the front of her apron and gives Rachel a meaningful look. Brittany watches Rachel nod subtly and wishes she isn't so out of the loop.
"Morning Brittany," Quinn says. The shift in her tone is remarkable to Brittany. The way Quinn spoke to Rachel merely seconds before was full of anger and energy, her voice now is calm, reserved, bordering sweet. She isn't sure if she should be impressed with Quinn's self control or worried they're hiding something pivotal from her.
"Morning," Brittany smiles at Quinn. She'll let the matter lie for now. "Rachel was just showing me this amazing bread. Have you tried it?"
"Of course," Quinn says, pulling a piece from the table. "I cooked it."
Brittany looks at the perfectly shaped roles then back to Quinn. "That's wonderful. You are so much better than our baker in town. He's okay but his bread is so mealy sometimes. And his wife, she's horrible."
Quinn exhales a small chuckle. "I'm glad you like them."
"I can see why they're Santana's favorite," Brittany mumbles, grabbing another piece of bread from the plate.
Quinn cocks an eyebrow at Rachel who shrugs, small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Brittany watches the exchange surreptitiously. "I was thinking," she begins, drawing their attention to her. "Would it be alright for me to explore the castle?"
Rachel opens her mouth.
"Outside," she adds hastily. "I know it snowed last night and it's a little cold but I'd like to see the grounds." The words seem to spring a leak in some dam deep in her mind. "Oh, I borrowed this dress because mine was dirty and ripped and I hope that's okay. Do you know where Philippe is? I left him outside and he doesn't like the cold and I was hoping I could see him because he's my only friend." She pauses, eyes going wide. "I mean, you're my friends, he's my old friend."
"Okay," Quinn nods. She grins at Brittany, amused.
"I will check with Santana if you can explore," Rachel begins, standing up.
Quinn grabs her by the elbow and pulls her down, grin never faltering. "Of course you can. Help yourself to whatever clothes you can find, I know we have some winter cloaks put away if you would like one."
"Thank you, Quinn," Brittany says, smiling at her and then Rachel.
Rachel looks as if she wants to say something and sighs, rolling her eyes at Quinn.
They sit for a while, talking, laughing, listening to any story Brittany will tell them about the world outside. It's nice for Brittany to sit with friends, people she feels comfortable talking to, people she isn't afraid will mock her if she doesn't say the right thing.
She feels it's so odd, to feel this much relief after everything that's happened. She knows she should be more upset, worried about her father, how he's managing without her. She knows she should be focusing on a way to get out of here, to convince Santana to let her go again, though properly with a lamp, at least.
It's hard to fight the feeling bubbling in her chest. It's a feeling she hasn't felt in years, not since she was a child and discovered dance. She sighs and sits back in her chair. Content, she thinks is the word and laughs at something Quinn has just said to Rachel, leaving the brunette looking scandalized.