The night spent in Tina's company had earned her a friend who worked nearby and as such gave her invaluable information on how to perform her daily tasks. In a few days she had learned how to do almost everything more efficiently, from washing her clothes at the river to knowing the various well-hidden spots Brittany would leave her belongings. The woman had a trick for everything and Santana was incredibly grateful for the help, because it meant that as the season changed from the scorching heat of summer to the orange-hued days that signaled the start of the harvest season, she went longer and longer without a beating. Until eventually she was able to mark four whole days without seeing Karofsky, though she did glimpse him in the mornings and slinking through the castle from time to time.
One of those times was while waiting patiently for Brittany to finish her morning meal; she stood at the back by the wall across from Tina, Matthew and three others who she wasn't familiar with. She only knew that two of them served the king and queen and the third was the king's personal guard. He was another tree of a man that Santana only knew as Azimio, he carried a bastard sword and looked like he had a foul temper. She didn't know a thing about him other than his looks and since he seemed like he might be even more dangerous than Karofsky, she went out of her way to keep it like that.
The royal family ate in relative silence, the king and queen seated side by side at the head of the table speaking quietly to each other. Archibald sat along the side next to his father across from Brittany who was next to the queen. The prince looked sulky and his grey blue stare flicked maliciously to Brittany every few moments as if she were gesturing rudely at him. In truth the princess was playing with her porridge and bread, tearing off pieces of the browned loaf and placing it in her bowl like little boats, smiling happily as she scooped it and the porridge up with her spoon to eat.
Santana found the royal's meal time was always the most uneventful part of the day, and it would be perfect if they were actually allowed to sit down and rest instead of standing at attention in case they were needed to assist in some way. Regardless, the quiet clanking of silverware on plates was almost soothing as she stood waiting for them to be finished; it was a peace that was broken by the doors at the end of the hall bursting open.
A man wearing the red and white of the king's advisors came marching in, he may have even pulled off an air of significance if his hair hadn't been so distractingly ridiculous. The giant, fluffy cloud of hair combined with his less than attractive facial features made him look more like a jester.
He was, however, a highborn lord and a royal advisor, so his noisy intrusion and questionable fashion went unremarked upon.
The king looked up from his meal, clearly perturbed yet still polite, "Lord Jacob, I must assume you have something urgent to tell me if you are interrupting my meal," he said in his stern, unyielding voice.
Jacob looked around nervously as if silently asking someone else to relay the news, "Sire, our occupation of some of the Southern territories isn't going as planned," he said quietly.
A rumbling sigh escaped his lips, "Is this something that can wait until I have finished eating and come to court?"
"No, sire," he said swiftly, "We sent more than half of our garrison to obtain those lands and… they are all dead."
The hall went totally silent, even Brittany stopped playing with her porridge at the news. Archibald looked pale, but it was nothing compared to his father.
"What happened?" his voice was the low, rolling thunder before a storm.
"The farmers and merchants convinced the civilians to rebel against your ordinance to relocate them in favor of making their homes strongholds."
"I am not asking why they rebelled! I want to know how four thousand well-trained and battle-seasoned soldiers were wiped out by commoners!" His voice shook the walls and caused everyone to shrink back.
Jacob, for all his finery, mousy attitude and weak stature didn't back away, "They didn't fight. They invited the soldiers into their homes and brothels, sold them meat and mead, even threw honorary feasts for their arrival. The ones that weren't poisoned from the food were killed in their sleep. There were maybe seven who escaped the massacre, one soldier took the time to send a message by pigeon, but the letter suggested their group was under duress at the time, meaning they could all be dead by now."
"Damn those peasants if they think they can get away with this!" he roared getting to his feet.
"Sire," Jacob piped up looking desperate to be heard over his king's rage, "I think it may be prudent to call off the overseas campaign, we are only allied with a few port colonies and the fighting will be long and difficult, especially since we don't know what we will find deeper inland. I say we settle matters here first."
"No," he said, and his tone told everyone that was final. There was no argument even though it was clear Jacob did not agree, "Archibald, this will be your task to deal with, once I am gone you must make the decisions. Handling this rebellion will be your first duty. Lord Jacob, you are tasked with rebuilding our lost force, I want us at double our previous numbers just to prove to those dirt-shoveling commoners that we are not to be trifled with. Send out a decree to all the territories to send their able-bodied men and boys to my service; to disobey is treason."
Matthew cleared his throat before speaking carefully, "Majesty, is that wise? To rile the Northern and Western colonies in the hopes of quelling the South?"
"Hold your tongue, boy! I have a council of elders to confer with, not you!" he snapped and shoved his chair aside, "There are arrangements to be made, Lord Jacob, come with me."
The flighty man did as he was told, leaving the hall swiftly behind the king and his guard, Santana might have been impressed if she weren't still gawking at the lord's hair. The queen continued to eat as if nothing had happened, after she took a final bite of bread she daintily wiped her mouth and rose to leave, her servant following her dutifully.
Archibald watched them go and once they had vanished turned to Matthew, "What was that about?"
For a brief moment the other man seemed quite exasperated, but that look quickly faded, "The new border territories of your kingdom are under attack by your own subjects. Your father wants you to deal with the issue."
"And you feel this is unwise?" he asked and Santana was surprised for a second time to find that the prince seemed to genuinely be asking advice from someone she knew he thought inferior.
"It is not the wisest course of action, he definitely needs to regain lost forces as soon as possible, especially in the face of this upcoming campaign, but, as Lord Jacob said, not by decree to the only lands that are still your allies. It would be like having three children and when one misbehaves you punish the other two instead of the one that caused the trouble. It's unfair and it will more likely than not cause the other territories to join their rebellious brother. If they are to be punished, why not be punished in the pursuit of freedom rather than because a neighboring territory rebelled?"
The smaller man thought about this for a moment and nodded, "I see your point. But our forces are cut and we must rebuild them if we are to defend ourselves, so what do we do?"
"Offer a reward for joining the service, an obvious choice would be land in the new territory the king conquers, that way not only do they come willingly, but it is an easy way to occupy the new land with loyal subjects."
Archibald smiled and seeing it Santana decided she liked it better when he scowled, "Excellent." He stood with a flourish that paled in comparison to his father's and began to walk out of the hall followed by Tina and Matthew.
He said a brief, 'My lady,' as he passed Brittany, she nodded acknowledgement, though she seemed almost afraid to respond.
Now alone, Brittany finished her meal as well and stood to leave. Santana moved to her side quickly, marveling as the kitchen staff came out from various doors moving quickly to clear and clean the places of those who had departed. Michael was amongst them giving out orders while helping and then, like magic, they were all gone.
Brittany looked as fascinated by it as Santana felt, "They are really good at that," she said smiling before stepping out into the hall.
"Are you going to join the prince?" she asked, knowing that after morning meals she would usually join her husband for some activity or another.
Brittany shook her head, "No, he's going to go to the council meeting with his father so he can tell them Matthew's idea."
It was the third serious surprise of the morning, "He would defend a servant's idea to the council?" she asked forgetting herself.
Normally, she wouldn't have inquired about anything to do with the kingdom or what the people in it did, but it seemed almost unbelievably uncharacteristic for a prince like Archibald to be so selfless and honest.
Brittany frowned slightly, "No, he'll just say it was his idea and take all the praise for thinking it up. Matthew always has smart ideas and Artie knows that, so he just uses them."
That seemed far more in line with what she thought of the prince, he would take the ideas from the only man who seemed qualified to have any and make them his own. Inwardly she scoffed at the whole situation and wondered why someone as smart as Matthew would give the brat prince any ideas at all. Why not just let the royals all fail and crumble under the weight of their own stupidity? It made no sense and she quickly gave up trying to figure it out.
Matthew's idea was accepted as evidenced by the new soldiers pouring in almost daily. The castle now had four times as many soldiers as it did before, and soon they had to start turning men away. The roaring success of the draft had the king singing Archibald's praises constantly while Matthew stood by dutifully, listening to how well thought out the prince's plan was and it made Santana ill. And all the while, with the homage and adoration that was being showered on him by his parents and the king's court alike, Brittany would still meet her some mornings walking like she had been kicked by a mule. Though Santana had to suspect that the beatings weren't something his parents knew about, as he never left marks somewhere that couldn't be covered with clothing. Or maybe they knew and just demanded he keep the evidence out of the public eye. Regardless of the answer, Santana had enough problems without trying to shoulder Brittany's, and it wasn't as if there was anything she could do about it anyway. At the very least, Brittany was a princess and allowed the best healers gold could buy, as opposed to a peasant's wife who was beaten daily then forced to clean the house and raise children with nothing but a cold rag for aid. Brittany's healer came in the guise of a large, bullish woman named Beiste who arrived regularly under the pretense of checking the princess' daily health, even though Santana knew she was repairing the damage her husband had done. The difference was hardly a blessing, but better than nothing.
The days were growing shorter and the air cooler, making it fairly pleasant to stand outside and muse as she was, occupying herself with various thoughts standing in the gardens waiting for Tina to bring Brittany. Her mind then drifted to the fact that it had been quite some time since she had been beaten for anything. There was a moment where she reflected on how sad it was that not being whipped was the highlight of the season, but she ignored that and sat by the small pond with a grin.
Alone in the noonday sun, Santana felt content for the first time since arriving; she felt like with enough time things could be bearable, that maybe living wouldn't always be a chore. This elated feeling let her mind wander where it willed and out of the depths floated something old and long forgotten; it was a song. When she concentrated she could recall it was something her mother had sung to her when she was very small, but it had been in the language of her ancestors and to her sorrow she could barely recall any of those words or their meanings. She had locked away a lot the night her parents died and that language had been amongst the things lost, sadly it wasn't something she could store and take out later. The words that she used to be able to speak clearly to her family were now missing or muddled.
It dampened her mood a little to realize that, she had never tried to speak it until now and even as she opened her mouth and sang what little she did remember of the song she found she was saying words she didn't recall the meaning of. She knew a couple, for the most part it was truly foreign to her, but she sang on anyway. It was like looking through the ashes of her past and finding something salvageable, leaving her to regret that she hadn't found it earlier, hadn't attempted to retain some part of her old self. But she couldn't blame the little girl from all those years ago, she threw everything away because it all hurt so very much, every memory was a knife in her heart and there were already so many new pains being beaten into her she'd had to just bury the old ones to survive.
The more she sang, the more of the song she could recall and the more her throat seemed able to recite the correct notes. The meanings weren't becoming any clearer, but her tongue was remembering how to wrap around the words. Even though it was a far reach from what she used to be able to do, it made her feel a little better.
Her tranquility was broken by a loud snap that sounded behind her, panicked she stood to face whoever it was that had snuck up so quietly. Never one to imagine a good outcome, she pictured Archibald or Karofsky to be there, but instead she saw Brittany standing stock still, her foot still on the twig she had stepped on, her face contorted into a wince.
"Sorry," she said softly, "Please don't stop, that was really wonderful."
Santana cleared her throat and kept her voice calm, "How long were you standing there?"
"Not long."
"I see, my apologies for not being ready to receive you," she said and moved away with the intent of giving the princess the run of the garden.
Instead of turning to admire the flowers and trees like she had never seen them before as was her ritual, she just looked imploringly at Santana, "Please sing for me? Just a little bit more?"
Santana knew that, as always, it was a request and not a command which was why she ignored it and stared off into the distance. Understanding, Brittany sighed and walked over to the pond towards the shaded seat that was prepared for her. It was then Santana noticed the heavy limp in her stride and the grimace of pain that flashed over her face as she sat down. The blue eyes that were always so happy didn't have the usual amount of shine to them and her smile was so stiff it could have been drawn on.
It was quiet in the garden, they were cut off from the noises of the castle and the city beyond, all that was audible was the wind, birds and bugs. This was the time that Brittany enjoyed most, she loved to come out and smell the roses, run through the grass and attempt to climb the large tree until Santana forced her to stay down.
This time she just sat in her chair and looked at the pond longingly, like a fish in a bowl staring at the deep blue sea. Santana realized that this was the first time she'd ever even sat in that chair; it had always been there for her, but Brittany had always taken to the grass as her only seat. A fact that had gotten Santana into trouble on more than one occasion since it was unseemly for the princess to show up to a meal in a grass stained dress. The thought brought her old resentments dangerously close to the surface, but then she allowed herself to remember that Brittany's only real pleasure had been taken from her by what could only have been a very severe beating.
Her heart went out to the woman, but she was reluctant to say anything. Tina and Michael were one thing, but getting even slightly involved with her captors was a disaster waiting to happen. It wasn't her place to ask what had happened and honestly she didn't want to know, but looking at her sitting in the shade staring at her reflection with that pathetic attempt at a smile crammed on her face, Santana decided that if she wasn't going to pry she could at least help.
Grudgingly, she moved to sit at the water's edge and took a calming breath, this time the song came out naturally and she didn't need to get used to it like she did before. A few more of the words came to her as she sang and she simply allowed herself to get lost in the melody, the parts she couldn't remember she hummed and with every passing note she felt a part of herself heal just a little bit. Like she was uncovering something her soul needed to survive.
A couple of verses in she was tugged from her introspection by the feeling of Brittany sitting gingerly next to her. Then her right side went warm as she lay her head on Santana's shoulder, never saying a word. Santana kept singing diligently until she got to the last note she knew, and only then did she let her voice fade into the air.
They sat in silence watching the wind ripple the pond's calm surface and for a moment Santana thought Brittany might have fallen asleep until she heard her speak.
"You must be part bird, because your voice is too nice for a human."
Santana suppressed a laugh, "My talent for singing is hardly mentionable."
"No, really," she said seriously. It was quiet for a while longer before she added, "Thank you… for singing that. I know you don't really like me and I can tell that was something private, so it was very nice of you."
It was all true, she didn't really like Brittany and the song had been incredibly private, but for some reason she felt the need to placate her, "I like you," she lied.
Brittany sat up and looked at her quizzically, "Really?"
"Yes."
A disbelieving look crossed her face, "Then smile. A real one."
"I sang you a whole song, wasn't that enough?" Santana bristled.
She sighed, "It's kind of you to try and spare my feelings, but you don't have to. I know I am annoying, Artie tells me that all the time and all the servants that ever try to escape the castle are almost always mine. Jean was the only one who liked spending time with me."
Why did she have to be so damn pathetic about it?
"Brittany, I like you," she said, forcing herself to use her given name and even managed a small smile to top it all off.
The princess lit up like a flame blessed with fresh kindling, "You do?"
"I'm not the only one, Michael, Matthew and Puck all have nice things to say about you."
Her exuberance dimmed, "Because they don't have to take care of me."
"Tina has and she likes you too, it isn't that bad."
"It is and you know it. You run around all the time getting things I've left behind and I've heard the servants' passages are quite difficult to navigate."
"Okay, it is, but you aren't bad to be around," and Santana had to admit the truth of that to herself. Despite all the trouble, Brittany did regularly go out of her way to make others comfortable around her even though her doing so made her husband furious and it couldn't be more obvious how dangerous that was.
Brittany smiled wider and put her head back on Santana's shoulder, "Thank you," she said again. "I don't like being treated like a princess, I just want to be normal Brittany. You're the first person to call me by my name that wasn't a noble or royalty."
"Don't get accustomed to it, my back is just starting to heal," she grumbled.
"What happened to your back?" she asked, and Santana had to take a deep breath before she decided to tell her what the others had gone out of their way to hide.
"I get lashes from the understeward for failing to watch you properly, or not respecting you enough… or for anything really."
She sat up abruptly, "What do you mean?"
Santana narrowed her eyes slightly, "How are you not aware that anytime anything befalls you I get in trouble. When we got lost together the first few days I was here you saw me get escorted away every time the prince, Karofsky or the guards caught us."
Her face was a mask of shocked horror, "But… I… you didn't…"
"It doesn't matter now," she said quietly.
The bewildered look on her face didn't cease and Santana felt uncomfortable under her gaze until she felt even more surprised when Brittany pulled up the back of her blouse.
She had never bothered to investigate the damage to her back in a mirror, so she wasn't sure exactly what it looked like, but it had to be bad since the princess looked almost green at the sight. She immediately dropped the blouse and stared pleadingly at Santana.
"I did that? They did that to you because of me?" she looked like she was on the verge of tears and Santana just could not handle tears from her.
"Don't worry, my back was plenty scarred before this," she said dismissively and she didn't know why. It had been her dream to shove the reality of the pain Brittany's actions brought in her face since she had arrived, but now that the moment had come she couldn't bring herself to be that mean.
"I had no idea. Why wouldn't anyone tell me? Matthew and Tina usually always let me know when I'm doing something wrong."
"They didn't want to trouble you, anyway there were many times where I was going to be beaten no matter what happened."
"I won't do it again, whatever it is that causes that I won't do it anymore," she said determined, "It was because I left things where they didn't belong right?"
"And because I left you to find them, and grass stains upset the prince as well..." Brittany looked stricken at her position in the grass and tried to get up but Santana stopped her. "Your dress today is too dark to see stains, just remember for later."
The princess nodded, "I won't stain my dress again and no more forgetting things."
Santana smiled slightly as she sighed, "Prince Archibald doesn't like me since I am supposed to care for a child you don't have, I would like you to be more careful but he may have me beaten out of spite. Until he has an heir it will be something I can't avoid I think."
"Then it's no wonder everyone hates me," she said and she sounded so distraught it actually made Santana's heart hurt.
Determined, Santana placed a hand on Brittany's and held her startled gaze when those bright blue eyes darted up to find hers, "I don't hate you."
She said it with enough sincerity to make the princess smile like she hadn't yet that day, a dazzling show of happiness that, without Santana's hardened cloak of hate and anger, she had to admit was pretty stunning.
Puck had many types of smiles; a roguish one when he was trying to be charming, a fake, toothy one when he was trying to be polite to someone he disliked, a playful one that made him look like a boy of five and many more that ranged in between. The one he was giving Santana now was his troublemaker smile, and she hated it.
In all the time she had spent at the castle she had been around Puck the least, but seemed to know the most about him. Whenever he could he would pop up in random locations to tell her a bit of gossip, usually involving two people she had never met, or to petition her for sex, an offer she always turned down. Like most conversations with her other acquaintances at the castle she always had her longest and most meaningful ones with him at the washing river which was how she knew the smile he was giving her had a tale behind it. One she was sure she wouldn't like.
She had ignored his presence since he had arrived, opting to focus on cleaning stains off her shirt instead, but he had been giving her that ridiculous smile for quite some time. "What, Puck?" she sighed finally.
"So I didn't know you sing," he said slyly.
She froze before snapping her head towards him, "Excuse me?"
"I heard you could teach a songbird its trade. Why didn't you tell me you were so good?" he asked feigning hurt.
"Who told you that?" She hadn't sung a note since the pond several days before, so it had to be then, but who could have heard?
"Our lovely Princess Brittany. She's been gushing 'bout you ta any open ear."
Santana felt the heat rise in her cheeks and any feelings of friendship she had been harboring for her mistress flew away. Why would she do that? Why would that idiot think it was alright to tell anyone about that? On the other hand she never asked her not to tell, so Santana supposed she had no one but herself to blame. It didn't stop her from feeling anger towards the other woman.
"I don't sing. Not anymore," she grumbled.
"What? Ya have to! I gotta hear this voice 'a yours…"
"I don't, Puck! Let it go!" she snapped.
He raised his hands defensively, "Okay, alright, sorry. Didn't mean to make ya mad, I just thought if ya like singin' and music ya might want to join our midnight riff."
"What?"
Puck seemed to have been waiting for her to ask that, because his eyes twinkled and he leaned conspiratorially close, "King Abrams'll be gone soon and there's gonna be this huge celebration, and I mean huge. There'll be performers from all four corners of the land comin' ta see the king off, even some 'o his castellans. The celebration is fer everyone, guards and peasants alike, even our ever loved understeward."
"But not for servants," she interrupted.
"'Course not, but that's the best part. Afterwards everyone'll be so drunk off their asses we'll have a night free ta do as we want. I already spoke to a few of th' musicians that got here from the North and they agreed to join, Michael c'n get us some meat, bread, mead and wine. I'm gettin' everyone together for one big servant's celebration fer after the free folk get their fill and I bet ours'll be better."
She thought on this a moment, she hadn't been to anything like that since she was a child and, though reliving the past in any way didn't thrill her, she did remember how much fun it had been, "Where will you have it?"
He pointed across the river to the tight forest of trees just beyond, "'Cross the river by the cliff face next to th' sea, it'll be perfect. It's far enough away that our gatherin' won't reach any unwanted ears, won't matter tho cause they'll all be dead asleep."
"And you want me to come and sing?"
He waved a dismissive hand, "Singin' ain't for you, then don't sing. Just come 'n enjoy yerself. When was th' last time any of us got to?"
He had a point, however, the last thing she had done for fun had been with Sam and that had ended poorly. She silently decided she would go, but prayed it wouldn't end the same way.
The morning was bright and beautiful and Santana found herself ahead of schedule getting to the stables to retrieve Brittany's mount. It was time for the royal hunt which was noble talk for a regular hunting excursion performed with all the frills the rich tended to have. To Santana it was just a pissing contest between father and son in front of their respective wives, which was foolish for a lot of reasons. The first being that seeing dead animals always made Brittany terribly sad, Archibald refused to use hounds, making the hunt incredibly long and boring, the queen never cared for hunting and moreover never cared who was the victor, because, and this was the most important point, the king always won.
However, being a servant in the king's service and not being named Matthew meant that her opinion neither mattered nor was it asked for, so she made her way down to the stables and turned the corner to the stall that contained Brittany's horse; only to suddenly scramble back out of sight.
Even as she did it she had no real idea why she was other than her instincts telling her something was wrong. A tentative peak around the corner revealed the green and silver riding tunic that belonged to Archibald and the basic black and white of one of the royal servants. Whoever it was the prince was momentarily blocking their face from view, but she could see the hem of a dress and there was only one servant in the whole castle who wore dresses; Tina. It didn't take long for her to figure out what sort of meeting this was and more importantly that it was totally unwanted by the woman currently pinned to the wall by the prince's body as he pounded into her.
There was a sickening moment where Archibald lifted her higher and Santana's eyes met Tina's; it was for the smallest time, but it felt like eternity and Santana could see all of her hurt and suffering in that moment. It was horrifying, because she knew that look, knew that feeling from her days being passed from person to person like a dog no one wanted, she knew the helplessness and desperation of being hurt badly enough to want to die clashing with the instinct to survive.
Santana turned away and rushed quietly out of the stables feeling ill, she was partially enraged at Archibald for being the worst sort of man imaginable, but mostly at herself for doing nothing. But what could she do? Even if she had stopped him then he would have her one way or the other and Santana would have been rewarded for her heroics with lashes or possibly death. She knew that to be fact, but it still made her stomach churn to think of what Tina was going through; and then there was Michael. The torment that overcame her at letting the prince have his way with the other woman must have been nothing in comparison to what he felt. Suddenly she understood both of them a little better.
Santana waited out of sight until she saw the prince come out of the stables, straightening his hair back into its severe style. When he was gone she slipped in to find Tina brushing his horse and straightening its saddle. The stable boys brushed and saddled the horses perfectly, well in advance of any outing, so she knew these actions to be those of one trying to stay busy. She deliberately cleared her throat to announce her presence making the other woman jump slightly. Tina saw her and smiled the fake smile that was to be found on most residents of the Abrams castle and continued to brush the horse's shining mane. Taking her cues from Tina, Santana smiled back and led Brittany's horse out of the stables; if Tina didn't want to talk about it she hardly saw how it was her right to make her.
Prince Archibald looked regal, even handsome on his horse in his hunting gear. The green offset his eyes nicely and his slicked back hair gleamed in the sunlight, his straight backed stance matched the noble way he held his bow and arrow to his side ready to strike unsuspecting prey. Next to him looking equally splendid was Brittany, riding side saddle in a matching green dress that made her lithe frame look demure, a look only complemented by her hair falling down her shoulders in golden curls. It would have been picturesque if Santana didn't know the truth behind them or wasn't actively hating them both for making her walk behind their little hunting party, especially when Matthew was there ridding his own horse alongside his prince.
Usually when the royals were out riding Tina would be there to walk next to her, but during a hunting event Archibald was only allowed one attendant to accompany him. Of course he chose Matthew, preferring to have Tina come and deliver his steed to his hands and wait patiently at the stables for his return. Santana grumbled darkly as she dodged another branch that swung past her face after being pushed aside by the princess' horse.
"My lord, this situation can only get worse," she heard Matthew say to Archibald up ahead, "Your father's castellan in the South has taken up arms with the farmers and peasants in the border lands and I can assure you he is not a man to be trifled with."
"The Southern castellan? Isn't that William?" he asked sounding almost bored with their conversation as his blue grey eyes scanned the terrain before them.
"Yes," Matthew seemed almost surprised the prince had known that, "Lord William Schuester. He is of a proud line of warriors and not a man to be taken lightly."
"Really? I heard he was a coward and a pushover," another disinterested response.
"It is often that warriors mistake kindness for weakness, but that is not always so. He is indeed fair and just in his actions, but he is stern when it is needed and ruthless if pushed. Those exceptionally balanced traits means he is a natural leader and can easily rally men to his cause. Him being involved means that it is very likely other castellans will join him."
This caused the prince to halt, meaning the princess stopped, meaning Santana almost ran into the backside of a horse before stumbling back.
"That can't happen, what should I do about that?"
Matthew sighed heavily, "Honestly, there is nothing you can do that won't make matters worse. The key here is to prove you can be every bit as kind and benevolent as Lord Schuester. He is known and renowned for his leadership and skills in battle, if you prove to be less forgiving or less skilled then the people will be inclined to join his cause and if they clamor for it their leaders will give them what they want regardless of their allegiance."
Archibald finally looked towards his servant, "I am most certainly more skilled than he is in combat! I will prove it to any man who dares deny it! Why should I bother with benevolence when clearly these nay sayers need a lesson in my battle skills."
Matthew gave a long-suffering sigh, "Sire, please understand what you are saying. If you prove your exceptional skill with a blade on the very people you are trying to prove your benevolence to you will only prove Lord Schuester the better leader. If you kill any who opposed you they will fear you, and though fear is a powerful motivator, it will definitely work against you in this case."
The prince paused thinking hard, "So the only way to prove I'm better than him is to not kill him for saying I'm not."
"I'm confused," Brittany said squinting against the sunlight.
"That's why no one was talking to you!" he snapped at her.
"That is correct," Matthew interrupted before things could escalate, "I think you should meet with an envoy and discuss what could be done to make the situation resolve itself. We need the borders secure as a precaution, but if we have to fight with our only allies to get them it is rather pointless. To the Far West there are many rulers who would love to see this land in discord so they could come in and wipe us out. The Abrams Kingdom is the single largest in the land, but our enemies combined have much more land and power, we need your territories to be united."
"Negotiations," the word left Archibald's mouth like it was sour milk, "I don't like the idea of compromising with those of a lower station."
"I understand that, but I assure you it is necessary and I suggest you not only do it, but do it soon. Lord Schuester has already begun to rally those we have tried to displace to arms, so we are cut off from the farms and vineyards closest to us meaning our supplies take twice as long to get here from the West and that is compounded by the fact that we have so many new troops."
At the sound of the word vineyard Santana felt her heart jump. Was Sam involved in all this? She hoped so, the idea of him riding in and killing Archibald and Karofsky was intensely satisfying.
"Fine, send word to Schuester and tell him I am open to discussion," he said grudgingly before suddenly lifting his bow and letting an arrow fly.
There was a loud yelp from the bushes a ways ahead of them, and Santana had to run full tilt to catch up as the horses all sped off to it. Luckily the distance was short and when she arrived she saw Archibald laughing wryly.
"Look at the stupid beast! Thought you could escape me, did you!" he taunted.
She followed his line of sight to see a large fox splayed on the ground, an arrow sticking out of its side. The way the stick wobbled was the first indication Santana had that the creature was still alive, panting desperately for air in pain and panic.
Without warning Brittany jumped off her horse and ran to the animal's side, looking distraught, "Artie, you shot a fox."
"Yes, I know, that is the point of hunting silly woman," he drawled, "Just give it a moment, it will die on its own."
Matthew climbed off his horse and went to Brittany's side placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Yes, my lord, but it may be more prudent to end its suffering now, it is distressing the princess."
With a roll of his eyes Archibald dismounted and pulled a knife out of the small sheath on his belt, "If I get blood on my new boots you will pay Karofsky a visit," he growled to Matthew.
The prince moved to grab the scruff of the fox's neck but was stopped by Brittany's hand, "Don't hurt him, he's still alive we can fix him!"
Santana thought she had seen the depth of the man, that she had seen him at his most petty and cruel, but the look that flashed in his eyes let her know she hadn't even been close, "Take your hand off me or I cut your throat instead," he said in a tone that did not jest.
"Please, Artie-"
She was cut off with a slap that made Santana wince from her spot several feet back, "Move!" he roared trying to shove her off the dying animal, but to Santana's surprise she fought back refusing to let him kill it.
Matthew seemed torn on what to do and only watched the struggle happen, his indecision led to Archibald's frustration and that led to him losing his temper. In a flash he had yanked the arrow out of the fox causing it to scream a wet-sounding yelp as blood filled its lungs, he grabbed Brittany forcibly by the hair and shoved the bloody arrow close to her face, the tip pinching the skin just under her left eye.
"Brittany, I have about had it with your idiocy! If you do not move I will gouge out your eye and feed it to you, do you understand me you stupid girl?!"
Tears were streaming and mixing with the fox blood and a bit of her own that came from the arrow breaking the skin, but the princess was either too terrified or too stubborn to back down.
Santana felt herself moving, slowly but steadily forward, it wasn't a conscious choice. As a matter of fact her consciousness was screaming for her to stay well out of it, but she couldn't. Not again, not a second time. How could she just stand there and watch him be so evil? The shame from bowing out earlier spurred her forward, even though her legs seemed to want to trip themselves in an effort to stop her, but as she tried to keep herself still she had to ask what the point of it all was. Why watch these things and do nothing, what was her purpose in the world if to not at least try? Yes, keeping still and quiet would keep her safe, but for how long? And more importantly for what? To have the honor of waking up another day to do the chores of her slavers with only a lack of beatings to mark the high points in her life?
She still feared death, so much her legs were numb and her ears were ringing with it, but suddenly her steps were more determined. Immediately she knew she was being stupid and impulsive and worse yet, she had no idea what she was going to do once she got over to where they were. She was quite sure that she wouldn't make the slightest difference in the outcome of this royal squabble, but she felt she would be giving up too much of herself to let this pass.
Then, without any warning, the trees parted and a large horse burst through the trees. For a bewildered moment Santana thought the oversized animal was some sort of apparition, but soon recognized the enormous stallion as the king's mount. The beast towered above her and consequently so did the king in his hunting garb, similar to his son's, but with far more ornaments and patterns. The green and gold adornments may have softened his appearance on a normal day, but as he looked down at the scene before him with rage in his eyes the tunic may as well have been battle armor.
"What do you think you are doing?" the king bellowed, scaring game out from their hiding places for almost a mile.
Archibald lowered the arrow from Brittany's face and looked snappishly at his father, "She is in the way of my kill!"
"And so you threaten your wife, the future queen of these lands, with bodily harm as if she is some slave girl that spilled wine on your tunic?! Are you mad?! Release her now!"
As much as the younger man wanted to argue he released Brittany who stood and moved away on shaky legs. Santana dashed to her side to offer support, but was still surprised when the princess pulled her into a tight hug, sobbing quietly into her shirt.
The queen took that moment to ride daintily through the wild trail her husband had blazed through the brush looking bored with everything, including the drama with her son.
"Father, she is insufferable! I shot the damn beast and she wants to take it home and nurse it! She wouldn't let me put an end to it; what was I supposed to do?!"
His father looked at him like one might look at a puddle of sick and sneered, "If you hadn't been such a poor shot in the first place this wouldn't have happened," he growled notching an arrow and putting it cleanly through the fox's heart without even looking.
The pained yip that escaped the animal before it died made Brittany hold Santana tighter and cry harder.
"You are such a stupidly impulsive, impudent child sometimes!" the king spat at him, "One moment you say something that makes me think you will be a great leader, a man amongst men, the next you are slapping women around because you are a terrible archer! If you can't even manage her without throwing a child's tantrum, how can I be expected to leave you in charge of an entire kingdom?!"
At this the prince straightened and tried to look less crazed, "Father, I am sorry about my outburst, but she tests me."
The queen sniggered loudly, "Archibald, don't be foolish she does no such thing, you are just upset she doesn't give you children."
He blanched under the combined rebukes of his parents, "I am assuredly fit to look after the kingdom in your absence. I have already put a plan into effect to quell the unrest in the South that will all but guarantee the preserved alliance of your castellans. Furthermore, my wife's barren nature aside, I promise both of you that as of this moment I have no need of an heir, because I will make our kingdom nigh untouchable to any opposing forces."
His father regarded him with hard, grey eyes, "I will hear of this plan of yours, but make no mistake, if you are to continue to be this poor an example of a man I will stay, new lands be damned. I cannot leave my kingdom in the hands of a squalling babe," he said and with that he turned to leave.
The queen watched him go with a disinterested expression and sighed, turning her lissome mount easily in the small clearing and following her husband. Santana watched them leave and thought of how things would be once they left for good; it made her feel like the bottom of her stomach fell away.
That night, after she had escorted Brittany to bed and eaten a bland meal that tasted worse for being cold, Santana lay awake in bed. Her mind was buzzing with thoughts, none of which she could grasp and calm down. It was unlike her to be as reckless as she had almost been before the king had arrived, just thinking of what would have happened if he had waited a moment later made her shudder. It was none of her concern, not Michael and Tina, not Brittany, none of it; yet there she was getting involved and it was terrifying, because it seemed every day served to suck her in further to the dark pit of despair the castle seemed to generate.
Desperate for some form of solid comfort she reached under her ratty mattress and pulled out her only remaining shirt from the first day she had arrived. It was still dirty and tattered, but it smelled like wine and grass, something else heady that she distinctly identified with Sam. She took a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs and let it out slowly, trying to tell herself to let it all go, that Sam would have begged her to. That reasoning didn't work however, because she knew if she had been in either situation with the prince that day he would have come to her side without a moment's hesitation. She felt slightly better that she had moved to help Brittany even though, thankfully, her help was not needed. Then Tina's face flashed in front of her eyes, it made the disgust with her cowardly actions flare again and she shoved the shirt back under the mattress. She spent the rest of that dark night telling herself that Sam had only said he would defend her but really wouldn't, so she shouldn't concern herself either.
All night telling herself that and she still didn't believe it.
A/N: To clarify this universe only has two actual formally named seasons summer and winter, the other two are informally harvest season (fall) and the season of rebirth (spring).