A/N. I own nothing.
Plans
Over the next few weeks, Quinn and the other girls used all free time they had in the woods, honing their skills. Santana would practice with her wooden sword, swinging against the resilient poplar, doing complex footwork manoeuvres, building her strength picking up Rachel (to Rachel's everlasting chagrin) and carrying her around the clearing. Rachel herself would fill the clearing with her wonderful singing, using it to conjure up illusions and phantasms, or to extend a shield of shimmering light in front of her. Brittany would practice her archery against a tree by the edge of the clearing, and then engage in games of martial arts with Santana, more often then not winning against her fellow novice. Quinn enjoyed watching them interact, the usually irascible girl was a different girl around Brittany, all soft edges and indulgent grins, and Quinn wondered if she would ever have a close friendship as the two girls. All the time, Brittany's giant cat, Lord Tubbington, would slink around hunting small animals, dozing in the warm sunlight, lazily flicking it's tail back and forth, or bound around Santana or Brittany, often tackling them to the ground and licking their face.
Quinn herself studied. The ancient book that Santana had stolen from the convent's library spoke of techniques and prayers to channel the Goddess' blessing into direct spells and magics. It was hard work, and Quinn often found herself constantly struggling to interpret the ancient text, and it's vague diagrams and symbols. She kept at it, however, determined to be able to defend herself should the need arise, and to keep up with the rest of the girls. Days after she had first opened the tome, she managed to successfully channel her first spell, causing a deluge of water to extend from her hand, that force of the water carving large divots out of the tree she had extended her palm towards. Emboldened by her success, she soon was able to conjure a light that temporarily blinded all who looked at it (Santana had not been amused), and best of all, to provide temporary feelings of rejuvenation to someone; Brittany, tired after a long session of practising flips and tumbles, had whooped in delight upon Quinn's blessing, and laughing in joy, raced over to the treeline to climb from branch to branch (Until she fell out of a low hanging oak once the spell had finished).
Santana had also insisted that Quinn would have to learn how to defend herself physically, so every so often the two girls would spar with two long branches of wood, which had been trimmed and shaped into long staves.
All the time, thoughts lingered at the back of Quinn's mind about what this all meant. Would they have to fight? What was the ultimate purpose, no matter how satisfying, of their endeavours? She had stopped in the middle of one of their sparring sessions to ask Santana once – the other girl simply stating that it "help to be prepared", and they continued their practice.
Her convent life hadn't stopped for Quinn either. While taking great care to limit her trips or take several companions to her trips to the guardhouses for prayers and hymns, she was tied up with Abbess Sylvester, planning the Spring festival for the town. Quinn would often return home late in the evening, to her oblivious mother, exhausted and full of trepidation about what the future would bring.
Three weeks after Santana had led her to the clearing, and only a few short weeks before the Spring Festival, Quinn awoke late in the night, hearing voices echoing down the stone halls of her house. Moving silently out of bed, she used a small blessing to create a dim light in the palm of her hand, and crept towards the voices, who appeared to be arguing.
"Russell, we warned you last time about dragging your feet. We wanted the trade routes to the west free of taxation – you told us this would be a reality. Yet my men and my wares continue to be stopped at the border. I'm beginning to think you don't plan to fulfil your end of the agreement."
Quinn breathed in. It was the same man she had heard talking with her father weeks ago. The impatient, threatening tone sent a chill through her body, despite the warmth of the house.
"I can't do the impossible!" her father was panicked, he sounded afraid. Quinn had never heard this tone of voice from her usually, confident, arrogant father. "You know the King expects a certain tithe from us. We can't just stop taxing the trade routes."
"That is not my concern. Tax the poor more. Do whatever it takes. Do you think you'll last much longer if you don't deliver on what we were promised. We're fed up, and you're damn lucky we still let you be Mayor."
"Please, I will get you what you want. I just need a little more time!" her father was begging now, a desperate tone entering his voice.
"I'll require something. I no longer trust your word, Fabray."
"Quinn."
A glacial chill shot through Quinn, who panicked that her eavesdropping had been discovered. A moment later a different kind of panic rose, as she realised her father was still speaking.
"I'll give you Quinn earlier then promised. I'll announce it tomorrow to the council, and we can move it up to the day of the festival. The evening of!"
Quinn froze entirely, holding her breath in sheer terror. What did her father mean? What was to be done to her?
Nothing but the crackle of the fireplace could be heard for a few seconds. Quinn, still frozen in shock, waited with bated breath for the unidentified man's reply.
"Fine. For now, that will suffice. But I wouldn't dally much longer if I were you Russell. There are more scarier men then I that want this to happen. You would be wise not to anger them."
The shuffle of feet signified the two men moving, and Quinn, willing her feet to move just in time, scampered down the hall back to her quarters, all the while mind running overdrive with what she had heard.
For the remainder of that night, Quinn didn't get one wink of sleep.
The first rays of light streamed through her window when Quinn arose from her bed, her mind still racing over the previous night's conversation. Nausea sat in the pit of her stomach as realised how cheaply her father thought of her, as if she were property. Is this what had happened to her sister, Fran? Traded away as a business transaction, or worse? She shook her head and quickly got dressed, packing her belongings, as well as the ancient book, in her rucksack. Grabbing a piece of stale bread that had been left in the kitchens, she left her manor quietly, making her way eastward.
As she reached Brittany's shanty on the edge of town, she spotted the girl in the morning light, blond hair shining in the rays of the sun, Lord Tubbington at her feet, rolling his back on the early morning dew.
Brittany looked surprised, but pleased, at the early morning visit.
"Quinn, Hi!" she beamed. "You're just in time, I was telling Lord Tubbington about this big tree that had fallen down near the south edge of town. We're going to see if we can salvage some wood for a scratching post. Tubbs needs to keep his claws sharp and handsome looking in case any lady cat's.."
"Santana, I need to speak to Santana" Quinn interrupted.
Brittany looked a bit put out at the interruption, but nonetheless answered.
"Well if you wanted to see Santana, why didn't you go to her house? Though she won't be up for another hour at least, she always likes to sleep in." Brittany said. "And steal all the covers." she grumbled quietly.
"I don't know where she lives, Brittany. Or I would!" she shouted, exasperated. Quinn had long known Santana from the order, but it would have been frowned upon for the mayor's daughter to visit a family like Santana's. Quinn had therefore never asked, and Santana never offered.
Brittany immediately pouted at the girl's tone of voice. Quinn sighed.
"Sorry Brittany, I didn't mean to shout. I just really need to see Santana. Please!"
Brittany didn't reply, just stared at Quinn for a few seconds, noting the agitation on the novice's face. She stood, nudging Lord Tubbington by the foot, and grabbed her bow and quiver from where they were leaning against the hut.
"Quinn. Take Lord Tubbington, and go to the clearing."
Without a further word, she shot off quickly, leaping over the wooden fence that separated her hut from the dirt path, and disappeared down the hill.
Quinn sighed, looked down at the giant cat, who simply stared back up at her. Sighing again, she shouldered her rucksack, and set off to the woods, Lord Tubbington by her side.
Quinn sat beneath the tall poplar, watching as Lord Tubbington ran to and fro, chasing butterflies and snapping at insects as they zipped around the small area. She had spent time studying some prayers, but she found her heart wasn't in it. So she rested, waiting.
A commotion at the other end of the clearing caught her attention, and she spotted a flash of blonde. Thinking Brittany had returned, she stood up, but upon noticing the figure was dressed in the heavy leathers of the town's militia, she tensed, sending a small prayer to the Goddess. She noticed out of the corner of her eye Lord Tubbington also paying close attention to the figure.
The figure started approaching, moving slowly, and Quinn leapt to her feet, going over her recently learnt prayer spells, ready to use them at a moment's notice. Lord Tubbington, meanwhile, was now close to Quinn, sniffing the air and still watching the stranger intently.
It was clear the figure had blonde hair now, as he approached, but Quinn still couldn't recognise who it was, and she wasn't about to take any chances.
"Halt" she cried out.
The figure stopped, momentarily, before taking another cautious step forward.
"I said Stop!" Quinn yelled. She raised her palm towards the stranger.
The guardsman stopped, less then 30 metres away. Quinn, in a moment of clear thought, walked sideways from underneath the shade of the poplar tree, so that she would be in direct line of sight of the morning sun, effectively hiding her identity.
"Who are you?" she called.
The stranger's voice was strong and clear, and slightly familiar to Quinn.
"Who am I? Who are you? What are you doing here?"
"I asked you first. Who are you? What is your business?" Quinn shot back, her nervousness growing by the moment. She spotted Lord Tubbington stalking in the grass to the stranger's left, effectively flanking him. She'd have to give that cat more credit.
The man however, began moving again, and Quinn panicked. Muttering her prayer to the goddess, she shot a bolt of water at the stranger, and it collided with him in the shoulder with great force, spinning him sideways and knocking him to the ground.
Quinn's outstretched arm was shaking wildly. Lord Tubbington edged closer still.
"Who are you!" Quinn practically screamed, on edge and trembling badly.
"I'm Sam. Sam Evans!" the stranger called. Relief immediately shot through Quinn, remembering Santana's advice about Sam "being one of the good ones".
Still trembling with adrenalin, she made her way over to where Sam was still half lying on the ground, clutching and rubbing at his shoulder. Lord Tubbington joined her and nuzzled into her hand, and Quinn was thankful for the soothing presence of Brittany's pet.
Sam frowned at her with recognition.
"Quinn? Quinn Fabray? What in the Goddess's name are you doing out here. And what on earth was that! It hurt!" he exclaimed, still clutching his shoulder and rolling it experimentally.
"I could ask you the same thing. And you thoroughly deserved it. I warned you to stop!" Quinn's fear and nervousness was giving way to anger. She was tired, hungry and now very upset. It had not been a good morning.
"This is part of my patrol Quinn. I certainly don't expect to run into people in the woods, let alone a sister of the convent! This isn't a safe place to be!" Sam exclaimed, his voice also rising with irritation. "And what is that?" he added, pointing at Lord Tubbington at her side.
Quinn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was a wonder the town stayed safe sometimes, with the idiocy of the town's guardsmen.
"It's a cat Evans, what do you think it was?"
"That's not like any cat I've seen before. It's massive." Sam said, making his way to his feet. Quinn instinctively took a step backwards. Sam looked offended.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. I just had to check who was out here, it's part of my duties. Besides, aren't you supposed to be at the convent?" Sam asked.
Before Quinn could reply, Lord Tubbington swung his head towards the treeline and Quinn and Sam followed suit, watching as Brittany and Santana cleared the treeline at a pace, Brittany with bow and arrow at the ready, Santana carrying some long wooden pole in her hand.
Quinn, for the first time since overhearing her father's conversation, finally let herself relax.
Sam just looked more confused.
"Lopez? You're out here too?" Sam asked as the two running girls caught up to Sam and Quinn.
"Evans, what are you doing here?" Santana shot back, overpowering Brittany's cheerful "Hi Sammy!"
Sam seemed to splutter with indignation.
"Me? I'm the one who's supposed to be out here! I'm doing my morning patrol through the woods, and I find myself attacked, yelled at and constantly asked what I'm doing here! And no-one has told me what two novices are doing out here in the woods, at this time of the morning!"
"Attacked? Who attacked you?" Santana enquired, eyes roving over the young man's dishevelled appearance and the dampness of his tunic.
"She did!" Sam replied, gesturing at Quinn. "I was just trying to find out who was here in this area, and next thing I know I'm knocked down and soaking wet. It came from her!"
Brittany, who had been murmuring quietly to Lord Tubbington, gasped in delight and wrapped Quinn in a fierce hug. Quinn, unused to physical affection, tried to awkwardly hug the young girl back, while Santana shot her an unreadable glance then turned back to Sam, smirking blooming on her face.
"Little guardsman Evans, beaten by a little girl from the convent."
Quinn and Sam both bristled.
Santana just cackled.
"Oh this is golden, wait till I tell the guys back at the post."
"Yeah, well wait till I tell Sylvester that two of her pupils missed morning prayers to run about the woods." Sam shot back, face burning in embarrassment. "And that the mayor's daughter can apparently wield magic."
Santana's smirk instantly evaporated, and she stepped close to him, knuckles clenched white over the staff in her hand, face grim.
"You. Will. Do. No. Such. Thing." Santana breathed, accentuating each word with a poke to his chest.
"Well can you please tell me what's going on?" Sam replied. "I'm getting a little tired of asking."
Santana's looked to where Quinn and Brittany stood, the young hunter still with an arm around Quinn's shoulders.
"None of your business, Evans." said Santana, still staring at Quinn, that unreadable expression back in her face.
Sam didn't look pleased.
"You can't expect me to just let you girls run aroun-"
"You will do exactly that, Evans" Santana interrupted. Turning her gaze back to him, she seemed to deflate and spoke lower "look, just... give us this one okay? I'll explain a few things later."
Sam studied her for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders in resignation.
"Fine Lopez, but you owe me one, got it? If Tanaka found out I knew you guys were out here, he'd have my ass."
"Yeah yeah, I get it." Santana said. "Don't tell Sylvester, either. I'll visit your house this evening, Brittany wants to see Stevie and Stacie again anyway. Bring Mike along too."
"Alright. Well..." with another awkward shrug, and a slight nod at the 3 girls, Sam began to trek back westward towards town. "Be careful" he yelled without turning, Quinn watching as he was swallowed up by the trees.
Santana turned her gaze back to Quinn, taking in the girl's exhausted demeanour and black rings under her eyes. She grabbed her arms, marching her over to the shaded area under the poplar.
"Sit." she said abruptly, gesturing at the grass. "I want to know why I was woken in the middle of the night."
The sun rose higher in the sky, sending streams of golden light through the branches, the morning dew giving way to midday warmth. The girls sat, eating berries and bread, drinking the goat's milk that Brittany had provided (did that girl always carry food, Quinn wondered) as Quinn explained the previous night's conversation.
Finishing her explanation, Quinn took a final swig of the canteen, watching Santana deep in thought.
"What's it all mean? What's going to happen to me?"
Santana just kept looking at the ground, frown etched on her face.
"I'm not sure Quinn, I don't know everything."
Quinn, used to Santana being able to answer all her questions, felt slightly uneasy. If Santana didn't know, it didn't sound like anything good.
Santana looked at her, a mixture of concern and pity etched in her face, something Quinn had never truly seen on Santana's face. It didn't bode well.
"Look," Santana murmured "I need to check a few things. In the meanwhile, you need to rest. You look utterly exhausted."
Quinn's noise of protest was cut off by a levelling look from Santana. She really was tired, the high and then low of the adrenalin rush and the previous night's lack of sleep were wearing her down.
"Britt will look after you."
At the other blonde's nod of assurance, Santana stood, brushing her habit down and grabbed her satchel. Her feet nudged the staff she lying next to her in the grass.
"Keep that Quinn. I had it made for you. You can thank me later."
Santana shot a smile at Brittany, who had been lying down gently patting her pet, then set off.
Quinn laid back in the soft grass, her head landing on her rucksack. Despite her trepidation about recent events, she was asleep within seconds.
Quinn awoke to the cracking of a small fire and the muted light of the fading day. Brittany was sitting on a log, cooking a small quail on the fire and whistling to herself quietly, while Lord Tubbington was at her feet dozing softly.
"Hey, sleepyhead." Brittany said, giving her one of her trademark grins, as Quinn arose, rubbing her eyes.
Quinn glanced around, but she couldn't see Santana at all. Brittany answered her quizzical looks.
"She's not back yet. Shortly though, I hope." Brittany frowned at the fire, slightly concerned about Santana's absence.
Quinn sat down next to her on the log. Brittany wordlessly passed a cooked quail to Quinn, who immediately bit in, her hunger outweighing her modesty.
"You really care for her, don't you?"
"She hasn't told you much about me, has she?" Brittany asked. Quinn shook her head.
"I met her when I was 9. My mother was very ill, and Santana's father would visit often with elixirs and concoctions. One day, he brought Santana along, and she was so cute and shy in her tiny frock. I liked her immediately. From then on, she would visit every day, helping me cook and clean for my mother."
Brittany was staring at fire, her mind lost in memories.
"She held my hand at the funeral, and told me she'd always look after me. We've been best friends ever since."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not." Quinn looked shocked. "I mean, I'm sad my mother died. I miss her everyday. But Santana came into my life, and I would never be sorry for that" the blonde girl explained, still gazing into the fire, a tremulous smile etched on her child-like face.
"And your father?"
"Well he taught me how to trap, how to shoot, how to hunt. But he wasn't the same after mother died. Most days he spends at the tavern."
Quinn didn't know what to say, so she just stared at the fire also, thinking about her parents, her empty mother, her controlling, strict father.
"What about Santana's family?" Quinn asked, after a few minutes lost her in own mind.
"She has two elder brothers, who are both guardsmen. That's how Santana knows them all. She always wanted to train in sword fighting and combat whenever her brothers did. It used to be so adorable when she was 10 years old, trying to lift these big heavy longswords. Her brothers used to laugh at her all the time."
"Is that why she carries that wooden sword around now?"
Brittany laughed. "Yeah, she loves that thing. She is always pestering her father and brothers to get a proper sword, but they tell her it's time to grow up and become a woman. I don't think her dad really has much time for her. He always speaks about the brothers whenever I'm there, but never mentions Santana. I think he put her in the convent school in the hope she'd stop trying to swing swords and fight the militia men, and to get her out of his hair."
"I never knew" Quinn said. "I always thought she was this bitch, full of attitude, never paying attention to the rules or study. I tried to ignore her most of the time I guess, though sometimes that's impossible with her" Quinn finished, rolling her eyes in memory of some of Santana's more memorable convent antics.
Brittany chuckled quietly. "Yeah, it's always been impossible to ignore her."
A heavy silence followed. Brittany was still gazing into the fire, one hand gently running down Lord Tubbington's back. Quinn had never seen quite a look on anyone's face, the way Brittany looked just now. It filled her with hope and left her feeling empty at the same time.
After a while, Quinn spoke.
"And Rachel? How do you know her?"
"We met her in the woods one day actually. She was singing and I thought it sounded wonderful. Even though Santana can sing better."
Quinn momentarily thrown by the fact that Santana could sing, pressed on.
"What's her story?" Quinn asked. Sometimes the short sorceress thoroughly annoyed her, and other times she felt this undeniable pull towards the girl.
"You'd have to ask her" Brittany replied. "Santana says she is physically unable to stop talking about herself, whatever that means. Perhaps you can find out."
"It's not... wrong, what her and her... parents do, is it?" Quinn asked, cautiously. The teachings from Abbess Sylvester were always in the back of her mind whenever Rachel was present.
Brittany gave her a pitying look.
"What is wrong Quinn? I'm sure a lot of this town would say it's wrong for Santana to learn how to wield a sword, or for myself to hunt in the woods. It would be wrong for the two of us to be friends."
Quinn looked down, secretly thrilled that Brittany called her "friend". Until these last few weeks, she had never had friends before.
"It's just the Goddess tells us that "those who would not worship any gods, and who call fire and objects from the void, are evil and cannot be forgiven for their crimes"" Quinn recited.
"I don't know what the Goddess tells you Quinn, when you can call water or life from her." Brittany looked at her, face solemn. "But I don't think Rachel is evil. Perhaps she just worships a different goddess then you?"
Quinn felt that was just as blasphemous, but kept silent, not wanting to cause any more awkwardness with the other girl.
The last light of the day was fading when Santana returned, carrying a large sack. She looked grim, and ignored the questioning looks Brittany and Quinn were throwing her.
"Here, get changed. Britt, get the gear out. Change of plans."
"What plans Santana?" Quinn asked, worried, as she looked down in horror at the travelling pants and tunic Santana had handed her. She'd never worn such clothes in her life.
Santana ignored her. She was pulling more items out of the sack, including canteens, thin bedrolls, sandals and cloaks. She tossed the canteens to Brittany, who scooped them up and disappeared into the twilight, Lord Tubbington following her.
Santana momentarily stopped what she was doing, and looked at Quinn, standing frozen, clothes still in hand.
"Get dressed" she hissed. Quinn, thrown into action, began changing clothes very uncomfortably, keenly aware of the presence of the other girl a few feet away.
Santana was ignoring her however, looking over the item's she had dumped from the sack, counting to herself and sighing.
Quinn had changed into the new clothes, which fit rather well, and she briefly wondered who had previously owned them. They felt strange on her body, as if she was showing too much skin.
Santana, apparently satisfied with her inventory, was now too also changing into similar clothes, and Quinn couldn't help but notice the back and shoulder muscles of the girl as she tore off her habit. Quinn had never before in the presence of another person in this state of undress, and she couldn't help but admire the girl as her muscles moved and rippled across her back as she changed clothes. She suddenly wished she had practiced more sparring at staves with Santana.
Santana, having dressed, slipped her novice's habit back on, and motioned for Quinn to do the same.
"What's going on? What did you find out, for Goddess's sake?" Quinn asked, growing impatient and more worried by the moment.
Santana, who began repacking her sack, looked at her, face stony.
"Congratulations."
"What? Santana, you're not making any sense."
"You are to be married." Quinn felt a hot swoop in her stomach, and sat down in shock.
"To David Karofsky." Santana continued. "Congratulations" she added sarcastically.
"How.. why...How? When?" Quinn fired back, a sick feeling rising from her stomach.
"On the day of the festival. There's been strange happenings with the guardsman today too. Something's going on. A power play by the looks of things. Looks like your father trading you in didn't work. Or won't for much longer" she added, darkly. "They're out looking for you now. You're to be kept safe" Santana gestured with her hands "until the wedding."
"What are we going to do? What am I going to do?"
"Look, Britt and I have been making plans for a while. We've just recently expanded them to include you... and, well I can't believe I'm saying this, maybe Rachel too. If she'll come."
"Come? What do you mean?"
"We're planning to get out of his town Quinn. There's nothing for us here."
Quinn was speechless. Simply leave? Where would they go? What would they do? She knew enough about the outside world that it would be dangerous for a group of girls to simply wander off.
"I c-can't just leave! Where do you expect to go?" Quinn asked, various scenarios running through her mind. "What about my family? What about yours?"
"Your family will be fine. They can't just make the mayor, or former mayor, simply disappear, it would look bad, and the King would look into it. Too much fuss. He'll just be pushed aside quietly, probably by the Karofsky faction, once they get you. As for my family and Britt's.. well let's just say we said our goodbyes along time ago. They won't miss us."
"I don't know if I can Santana!" Quinn whispered, rocking back and forth slightly. "Why me anyway, why am I so important?"
Santana looked at her, strangely, as if she had realized something. "You don't know anything about your family's history, do you?"
"My parents aren't exactly people I could sit down and talk with! All that was required of me was to play the perfect daughter and excel in my duties at the convent. I wasn't told why."
"I'll skip the history lesson for now, but you're not the first in your family to have been blessed by the Goddess. That's what they want, okay? Priestly magic is rare and you're like Rachel, Quinn – the real deal."
"I don't know, Santana!" Quinn repeated, still finding it hard to believe it was all happening.
"It's either this, Quinn, or you enjoy your honeymoon with Karofsky and probably half of the town guard" Santana retorted, harshly.
Quinn recoiled in sheer horror. She felt her world breaking down, and suddenly found hot tears in her eyes.
"Shit... look.. Shit Quinn, I'm sorry. Just.. here." Santana wrapped the girl in her cloak, and sat down next to her, holding her as Quinn began to sob into the the other girl's tunic.
"We're going to get out of here, okay" Santana continued softly "we're going to get outta here, kick ass, and find a place for us. Somewhere where we'll be safe. We'll protect you, alright?"
Santana continued holding her, and Quinn drew comfort from the other girl's embrace. Eventually, she leant up, rubbing her eyes and throwing Santana a wan smile.
Brittany had returned while Santana had been comforting Quinn, and was carrying another large sack, with her bow and quiver around her shoulders. She passed Quinn a large canteen, and ruffled her hair slightly in a friendly gesture.
"All ready" the taller girl said.
Santana just nodded, and turned back to Quinn.
"Now listen Quinn. Do you think you can get into your house without anyone noticing you?"
Quinn nodded. Her mother would be busy, her father most likely out.
"You have to pack whatever essential items you need. Don't forget your staff, any books, clothes, food you can carry. Britt and I need to call in a few favours, then we'll meet you outside your house. Don't leave, and don't attract any attention, till you hear my whistle. Got that?"
Quinn nodded once more.
"After, we're going to have to see Sam, and then Rachel. If at any time you get discovered by the guardsmen, or anyone else, or you lose us, you meet us back here, okay? You find your way back here and you wait. Remember what I taught you, how to defend. Aim for the vitals, don't overextend. If in doubt, flee."
"Yes" Quinn replied, her voice betraying her nervousness.
Santana took one more look at Quinn, then nodding to Brittany, the three girls and cat set off through the darkness, towards town.