When Santana woke she immediately knew that it was far too early for her to have to attend to her duties; she was also sure that what had woken her was a terrible dream. If she thought on it she could have recalled it, but not wanting to bother she merely sat up and rubbed her eyes. Whatever had scared her awake had done so quite thoroughly, she was more than a little aware that sleep would not return to her anytime soon.
Sighing, she stood and paced her small room, cursing its lack of windows and stale air. As she paced, she could feel the details of her dream dancing on the edges of her mind and, unwilling to let them seep back in, went to her door and cracked it open.
Unlike her previous living arrangement her new room opened directly into the royal's grand hallway, leaving her door to be one of the most modest in sight. Right next to her was the large, ornate door of her queen and she suddenly had a whole new line of thoughts to fight out of her mind.
Without wasting another moment, she dashed into the hall and moved swiftly and silently to a heavy, wooden door at the end of it. There were guards posted in various places throughout the castle, but ever since the king sovereign left they were mostly centered around Archibald's room which was a long trek away. Even so, the guards never bothered with servant entrances, so once Santana closed herself in the small hallway she felt quite sure she wouldn't be disturbed.
However, once she took a full step in, she realized that the small window that overlooked the ocean was letting in gusts of air that felt like they could freeze her breath in her throat.
Shuddering, she considered returning to bed, but then thought about sitting alone in the small room with only her thoughts and was easily able to walk up to the open window and take a deep breath of the crisp, salty air.
The cold filled her and cleared her head easily; it felt so good she did it again, loving the way her breath created long clouds that floated away, free of her and the castle. She sighed a third time, but this time almost choked on the frigid air when a voice reached her.
"You shouldn't have only your night clothes on in this cold."
That was true, but the moment Santana heard someone speak her whole body warmed up with undiluted fear. Wide eyed, she looked around for the source, but saw no one, however, she recognized the voice. Tina was somewhere around her, well hidden in the night's darkness.
"Where are you?" she asked the air before her.
"Down here."
Santana would have looked to her feet if she hadn't realized that the voice had originated outside. This seemed equally absurd, however, because the window was easily high enough to overlook the castle and the ocean beyond.
Frowning, she leaned her head out and looked down to see the other woman indeed outside, sitting on a ledge two arm lengths below the window. It was just wide and large enough to sit on and Tina was doing just that, wrapped up in a blanket, drinking a cup of something she assumed was hot since the liquid was pushing steam into the air.
"Care for company?" Santana asked.
Tina gave her a nod, "Be careful."
She leapt on the window sill nimbly and lowered herself down on the ledge, only feeling the dread of their considerable height from the ground as she lowered herself. Falling didn't only seem possible, it seemed likely with only her arms to keep her from death, but then Tina offered a steadying hand and assisted her in sitting next to her.
Once she was seated, Tina offered part of her blanket and Santana gladly wrapped herself in it, surprised at how soft and warm it was. She wasn't sure she had ever felt anything as nice in her life, as soon as she wrapped it around her all of the cold was shut out, trapping the warmth from herself and Tina in an instant.
"Where might I get one of these?" she inquired, marveling at the soft fur from an animal she couldn't identify.
"It was a gift from the king."
Santana's face fell and she wanted to throw it off of her, but it was really cold, and if Tina could bear to be wrapped in it she could surely find a way to stomach it.
"I wouldn't think you'd want to take anything from him," she said carefully, ready to let the topic go if Tina seemed unwilling to discuss it.
"I eat his food, wear his clothes and tend to his every need, I see no reason to not use his gifts to escape him," she said before taking another sip of her warm drink.
Santana eyed it jealously, until she caught a whiff of the scent it gave off, "What is that? I mean no offense, but it smells terrible."
Tina hummed in agreement before taking another sip, "And it is also a bit poisonous."
Brown eyes widened as she feared she was watching her friend take her own life, she couldn't say she hadn't ever thought of doing the same, but something always kept her from it. Something inside her that wanted to keep going no matter what, it was hard to fight and at times she hated it, because her life was full of moments where dying would have been preferable. She had no right to tell the woman what she should do, but somehow it seemed too sad to just sit by and let it happen.
"But I think if you do this it will kill Michael as well. He loves you so much and-"
Tina halted her by waving a hand, "I said only a bit. It isn't deadly in small doses."
"Then why drink it?" she asked quizzically.
Tina's eyes settled on the ocean far beyond before she answered, "I have no choice in accepting that man's gifts, I take them and am forced to act as though I am grateful. I will do these things, because the consequences if I do not are dire. However, the one thing I will not accept from him is his child."
Santana frowned deeply, trying to draw the connection between that and what the woman was still taking small sips of, but suddenly the pieces fell together. She had heard of women who could empty their wombs with certain herbs, but she had always thought of it as an old wives tale.
"I thought he wasn't able to have children," Santana said in a small voice, feeling as if she needed to tread lightly and not wanting Tina to feel pitied by ignoring the subject completely.
The other woman took another sip of the concoction and shrugged, "I don't want to be the one to find out differently."
Santana nodded and pulled a little of the blanket up and over her ears to warm them, "Is that difficult to make?" she asked feeling the question wasn't as invasive, but not obviously avoiding the ugly reality of Tina's relationship with the king.
"No, the ingredients can be difficult to find, yet Zheng always finds a way."
Ah, Michael. And now she knew how the king's slave and mistress was able to get such a thing unseen.
"Aren't you worried he might find you gone?"
"He won't rise till morning."
Santana would have asked why she was so sure, but the hard look in Tina's eyes and the tension she could feel from the woman next to her told her all she needed to know.
The words 'I'm sorry' were on her lips, but she didn't let them pass, because she too hated pity, though it didn't stop her from feeling it.
Deciding she had dwelled on the subject long enough, she made an effort to change it, "Do you know anything about Azimio?" she asked, desperate for something else to speak on.
Tina seemed a bit thrown by her question, "I don't," she said, tilting her head slightly, "But no one does. When the king sovereign first sailed to the new lands across the ocean many years ago, Azimio came back with him. No one knows why since he doesn't talk to other slaves, save for cruel words."
Santana chuckled, "He didn't strike me as the type for kindness."
"He isn't."
Tina took another sip of her heated poison and Santana found her thoughts inevitably drifted back to Brittany, but instead of trying to stop them she merely refocused, "What about the queen, how did she come to be here?"
"It was before I arrived when she and the king were engaged, but I hear it was shortly after she was born. The land across the sea has many fierce warriors commanded by many strong tribes, the stronger ones are farther inland and the weaker are pushed to the sea. When the king sovereign sailed there the first time he came upon the larger of these lesser clans. While there, he befriended the ruler of the tribe; he told the ruler of the power he held in his own home and soon they struck a bargain."
Santana was listening with such rapt attention she allowed the blanket to slip down her shoulders, afraid to move and correct it lest she miss a word.
"The trade was simple, the king sovereign would get a portion of lands the ruler owned and an ally, in exchange the ruler's daughter would marry his son. So when the girl was old enough to make the long voyage, she was brought to this land by her parents who wanted to see that it was all it had been claimed to be and, satisfied, they left her here."
She didn't know why, but somehow that story reminded her of herself, "Doesn't she send word to her parents? Tell them she is being mistreated?"
"When she was younger she did, I was there to see that."
"What did they reply?"
"I don't know, but as they are still the king's allies and her beatings continue I have to suppose they do not care."
Wrapping the blanket more securely around herself Santana sighed, "How does she do it? How does she get up every morning and smile like she does?"
Tina tapped her finger against her mug before taking another long drink, finishing the foul smelling liquid, "I've wondered that myself, she wasn't always that way. She used to be quite sullen, but then when she married the king she became the woman you know now."
"On her wedding day?" Santana asked miffed, "Was he different before then?"
"He didn't start to hit her until children were expected of them and he started to understand none were coming, but no, I cannot say he was particularly kind to her before then."
And just like that Brittany was an even more puzzling person to Santana than she had ever been.
The newly crowned king and queen ate their morning meal at the royals table, which was far too long for two people, in the chairs previously reserved for Archibald's parents. It was an arrangement that the king enjoyed due to his status and hated for the proximity he was forced to have with his wife.
Brittany was currently playing with her bread again, ripping off pieces and prancing them through the foods on her plate like a horse. Archibald was watching her from the corner of his eye as if he wanted nothing more than to take her plate and hit her with it.
"Brittany, my love?" he said finally, teeth clenched and his tone just barely cordial.
"Yes?" she responded sweetly, missing the bite to the endearing term.
"Eat your food like a woman of your age or I will knock out all your teeth so you can eat it like the infant you are behaving as," he said quietly, so quietly Santana would have missed it if she didn't have her ears perked to the sound of his voice, and a protective urge to break his hands surged through her. It wasn't new, apparently her attraction led her to feel possessive and protective, but luckily the urge to strike him was easier to stow away than the urge to touch Brittany.
She stiffened in her seat and immediately put her bread down, "I think I was done anyway," she said, quietly pushing her plate away.
Archibald nodded and looked over his shoulder to Matthew who was standing a few paces away by Tina and Karofsky, "Come here," he beckoned and reclined lazily in his chair, "So tell me, what should I know for tomorrow?"
Matthew strode forward to be at the king's side, "Highness, Lord Schuester has sent out an emissary as per your request, I just received word their caravan will arrive by tonight."
"Who has he sent?"
At this question Matthew paused, "Erm, he… he has sent Lord Hummel."
Santana didn't know who Lord Hummel was, but judging from the way Archibald almost choked on his food and Karofsky's eyes widened suddenly then narrowed dangerously, she had to assume he wasn't someone who was overly loved by Castle Abrams.
"Is he trying to start a war!" the king screamed, pounding his fist on the table.
"In all likelihood," Matthew said, calm in the face of his king's fury, "He knows how you feel about him and is probably hoping that you attack his peace emissary in a rage over the slight. It would make you look impulsive, cruel and unjust which would be crippling to your image with your father not even a season gone."
Archibald studied his aid carefully, "Well, it is a slight and I am angry, so what should I do?"
"Nothing. Not to Lord Hummel in any case. You should be courteous and listen to what he has to say with an air of polite interest even if the terms of the renewed peace are outrageous. Lord Schuester is trying to get you to react poorly and bring yourself down without having to land a blow, which is what will happen if the people of this kingdom find their leader to be a tyrant."
"Alright," he grumbled, "Brittany, leave us, I need to speak to Matthew in private."
Brittany didn't even pause as she stood and turned to leave, Santana fell into step with her and Tina moved to leave as well, but the king reached out and grabbed her arm, "No, you stay." And Santana did not like the way he said it.
For the first time Santana noticed how worn and weathered the other woman was. Since they had moved out of the servants' quarters they had hardly seen each other, the previous night was the most time they had spent together since then. Tina tended to spent her long midday break with Michael as much as possible, and Santana had been so wrapped up in her own turmoil she hadn't noticed anything on the few occasions they did see one another.
All she could do was give her what she hoped was an encouraging look and pray that the king's failure to beat his wife didn't mean he was now beating his mistress.
She escorted Brittany down to the gardens where the queen thankfully let Santana be and fed the ducks some of the bread she had snuck out of the dining hall. Santana couldn't help but smile and wonder again how she did it, how she could still, after everything, be so kind and innocent.
Seeing her staring, Brittany smiled and ran up to her, blonde hair bouncing as she did, making her look more like an exuberant child than royalty. When she reached Santana she held up the piece of bread she had in offering.
"Do you want to feed the ducks, too?" she asked, expectant hope written all over her features.
Santana felt a surge of emotion well up in her chest and it was totally different than the raging beast that was being caged in the pit of her stomach, this was warm and tender and it made her want to reach out and hold her and protect her from everything bad in the world. It was just one more thing to deal with, but this feeling made her so calm and quiet that it didn't even occur to her to fight it. Then she reached for the offered bread, their fingers touched and everything washed away, everything in the garden but Brittany standing there with her sparkling eyes and sweet smile, and Santana was entranced. That warm feeling filled her and she felt a peace stronger than any other, stronger even then what she felt when she lived in a small house at the edge of the forest with her parents. It brought with it all the memories she had locked away and everything good about her previous life that she had tried to forget - her lost words, her mother's song, their dances - all of it hit her at once, and at the heart of it all there she stood the one who had started a tempest within her at a touch. The one who had the power to turn her world over and over without any hope of stopping.
Under the trance of that gaze nothing mattered but Brittany, her mind was incapable of working out how anything else could ever matter as much as her and the joy she brought. The blonde held her gaze unwaveringly and suddenly, like during the hunt, her body started moving without permission, but unlike then she was not torn about it. Everything that was happening was fine, because those blue eyes were burning a hole straight into her soul. Santana felt herself move forward until the bread was the only space between them and she saw her hand lifting and she came to the fuzzy, uncaring conclusion that she must be about to kiss the goddess before her with the sky in her eyes.
Then there was a shrill scream and the world came crashing back.
Santana's head snapped around looking for the cause of it, but saw no one. She looked nervously at Brittany who had found the source of the sound and was smiling benignly.
"It's a crow," she said simply, but Santana could tell she was a little shaken by what had just almost happened.
The smaller woman looked up at the bird and as much as she hated that the moment had been broken, she was thankful.
"Yes, it is," she looked away from her feathered alarm, "You should go feed the ducks, I wouldn't want to take your fun."
Brittany pouted and Santana had to avert her gaze from it, "Okay, but if you want to, please join me," she said, her bright smile slipping back on her face easily.
Santana watched her go and sighed; at that moment she vowed to be more careful around the other woman as she glanced back up at the crow that sat in the tree branches, watching her darkly.
The next morning was like every other and completely different. Santana woke Brittany up at the same time she always had, took her to eat, and escorted her to court, but now, more than ever, she was extremely aware of the other woman's presence. Her every move, her every breath was observed by Santana who couldn't pull her eyes away. She had to watch closely, because the queen was a person who loved to touch and hug and Santana had to minimize skin contact as much as possible, it was giving her the worst kind of headache to imagine how she would get through her nightly bath, let alone all the ones she would have to give every day after.
By the time she was free to do as she pleased she was exhausted from the mental strain and went to relax under the trees by the river again. And once again Puck came up behind her, but much more noisily, in fact he was almost shouting.
"Santana!" he cheered, sliding to a stop at her side, "Listen, you have to tell me what gods you prayed to, because they answer faster than lightning strikes!"
She looked up at his smiling face, discerned that this particular grin wasn't his messing about grin, and raised her eyebrows at him, "What?"
He dropped to his knees, almost shaking with excitement, "Prepare yourself," he said dramatically and paused, "Lord Hummel is comin' to th' castle."
They stared at each other in silence, her face neutral and his excitedly expectant. Santana broke first, "I knew that already, but what does it have to do with me?"
"What does it…" he frowned at her, "You never heard of Lord Kurt Hummel?"
"No."
"You remember when I said I'd hearda women with your… uh, same tastes before?" she couldn't control a blush as she nodded, "Right, well, Lord Hummel would be th' one who introduced me to the idea."
She stared at him, "How did he do that?"
"I'm not explainin' this right. The Hummels are the only high born family in th' entire kingdom that castellans from every corner trusts. All their coin comes offa deliverin' important messages from one place to the other 'cause you can be sure if it is with them it'll arrive as it was written or told and it will arrive. Means they're constantly on th' move too, they have a home, I think Kurt's pa stays there now 'cause he don't run the caravan no more. Anyways," he plowed on, waving his hands at his own tangent, "the Lord Hummel in charge now travels heavy on company, namely men and women who're homeless otherwise. Like runaway slaves, folk th' gods weren't so kind to when making their shape, n' those too weak or sick t' do slave work. He takes in everyone who's been thrown out 'n gives 'em a respectable job. He even pays 'em. Gold," he finished impressively.
Santana blinked up at him, "I fail to see where I fit in, unless you are suggesting I join as a freak that needs employ."
He waved wildly again, "No. Will you listen. So, Hummel himself is a lil' different 'cause he ain't ashamed to let it be known that he likes th' company of men."
Santana thought this over, "That still doesn't involve me, though I was once owned by a man who liked small boys and only bought me because he thought I was one."
Puck slapped a hand over her mouth, "Use yer ears, love. Hummel ain't into children, he's a good man and treats nobles n' slaves with th' same respect. What I'm sayin' is he also takes in folk that share that same desire. He's a man who desires men so in his caravan there's alotta other men like that, but there's also a buncha women that only desire the company of their own."
With that he released her mouth, "I still don't see where I fit in. Am I supposed to go up to these women and ask for advice?"
"Maybe, but I was thinking you might walk up t' one of them and ask to bed them."
Santana felt her whole body grow hotter than the sun at that suggestion, "I don't think-"
"Before you try 'n talk me out of talkin' you into this, think about it. Your problem's that you like women, but yer the only woman here that does." Santana looked like she was going to interject some skepticism, but Puck interrupted, "Trust me, I know. So I think ya work out some of the tension you got that has you lookin' like a cat onna fence with dogs on both sides."
She had to consider that it made more sense than trying to never touch the queen when the woman seemed to thrive off physical contact. If sex with a woman didn't subdue her obsession maybe it would just give her more time to figure something else out.
Still a bit shy about her situation, she nodded at him and Puck's face exploded into joy.
"Perfect! They'll make camp inside th' castle gates and I know jest how ta sneak in. While yer lookin' for a lady to charm, I'll find the ones who love me as much as I do, there's this one blonde I see every time Hummel comes through. I know she'll be waitin' for me."
"That's almost sweet of you," she joked.
He shrugged, leaning back to join her in the grass, "She has th' most beautiful eyes, they're this green brown color and I swear if ya look in 'em deep enough you can see specks of gold."
"She sounds lovely."
"Hands off," he said in mock warning.
They shared a laugh that rang loudly in the bright, cloudless midday sky.
As night approached, Santana felt like she wanted to change her mind about sneaking out of the castle. Sure, she really wanted to try and get her mind off Brittany and she was definitely interested in meeting other women who shared her idiosyncrasy. And she was almost too eager to know how two women could engage in sex with each other at all, but the thought of being whipped by Azimio made her feel like it really wasn't worth it. At least those were her thoughts before she had to undress Brittany and wash her; after that she was immediately back to her plan to meet Puck.
She waited for him at the river and when he arrived she had to try and conceal her shock. He had come dressed in fine, rich, dark silks that made him look like a young lord, his short hair was gleaming and he smelled like flowers and fine oils.
Santana couldn't suppress a smirk as he got closer, "You must really like this woman. Where did you get those clothes?"
"Might've nabbed some stuff while folks was passed out at th' noble's party," he said nervously, "You think it's overdone?"
"You look handsome."
"Perfect," he said flashing his usual smile.
He took her arm and led her from the river to the golden lights that were shining in the distance from the caravan that had set up in the courtyard. Santana had seen a little of it as she had worked that day, but it was mostly workers bustling around and setting up camp. Now as they approached, she gasped in awe as she saw the many tall and elaborate tents that comprised the Hummel caravan. They slipped in along the side from an unguarded section facing the woods, allowing them to avoid the surly looking guards that watched the front entrance. And once past the tight section of tents that formed the outer wall she found it was more reminiscent of the market at the castle gates, though this was far grander. It was less like a market and more like a carnival; there were performers playing music and juggling as they sat around fires, talking happily, and there were portable stalls set up selling food and drink that looked quite delicious.
Santana hadn't known what to expect from this place, but her knowledge of Puck had led her to believe it would be as rowdy and licentious as a brothel. In truth, everyone was calm and in high spirits; there were men and women in random places who were clearly together, but their touches were innocent and loving. She couldn't help, but notice that there were quite a few beautiful women about on their own, some looking busy others just wasting time watching the performers around them.
Puck obviously wasn't interested in them as he looked around nervously, apparently trying to locate the lady that had caught the attention of the flirtatious rogue. With a light tug she got his attention and signaled that it was alright for him to go off on his own. He smiled anxiously at her and dashed off to find the source of his disquiet.
Santana wandered though the tents that seemed to form their own city and wondered, not for the first time, what she was even doing there. It wasn't like she was comfortable enough with her own preferences to ask another woman for a kiss, let alone anything else. She personally hated it when men acted as though the greatest gift a man could give a woman was sex, so she naturally assumed that even if she did meet someone of the same persuasion, any advances she made, again assuming she didn't just run away part way through, would be unwanted. These thoughts bounced back and forth for quite some time as she stood motionless in the shadows of a nearby tent, trying to make herself have more courage, but in the end she just gave up.
Defeated before her search had even begun, she wandered over to one of the vendors selling choice cuts of meat. She eyed them hungrily, deftly aware that the only thing she had eaten since arriving was bread and crow stew, and even at that her last meal had been skipped to come to the caravan. It was worse than being in the kitchens where all the smells blended together to generate the pleasant aura of food, this was concentrated meat smell and it was making her want some like she had never wanted anything… well, almost anything.
With a sigh she decided against stealing from the cart as it could have consequences more dreadful than she was willing to face for a taste of real cow. She turned to leave, but froze as she saw a man standing behind her, looking at her with a twinkle in his eye. Something about him made her uneasy and she quickly decided it was the way he was dressed. It wasn't so much that he was wearing clothes she would associate with being more feminine in nature, it was that the quality, the colors and fabrics were far more elegant than anything anyone else had on - he was high born.
"Red blouse, black pants and a silver belt, clothing that gauche means not only are you from the castle, you are one of the royal servants," he said in a neutral tone, his face had a small smile and his eyes still danced, Santana didn't know him well enough to know if that was good or bad.
"Sorry, I'll go," she tried, but before she knew it he had trapped her under one arm and turned her back to the stall.
"Nonsense! I saw you drooling over our selection of fine meats here, have some."
This was surely a trap, "N-no, thank you," she sputtered, "My lord," she added not sure if it was warranted in this situation or not.
Apparently it wasn't, because the stall's owner and the man who had her trapped doubled over in laughter, meaning she had to bow low, too. After a moment he was able to collect himself, wiping away a tear of mirth.
"Lord? Please, no one calls me that. Lord Hummel is my father, I shall always be Kurt," he said, extending the hand that wasn't around her shoulders.
She took it cautiously, "Pleased to meet you," she said, though she wasn't sure how courteous she sounded since she couldn't hear her voice over the pounding of her heart in her ears; of course she would be caught by the emissary himself.
"Same. Blaine, prepare a spread for the lady," he said to the man behind the stall. Santana tried to intercept the order, but Kurt cut her off, "Don't fret over money. I won't have the servants of Castle Abrams saying I'm an inhospitable host." Again, she opened her mouth to protest that she wouldn't do any such thing, but he carried on, "You know, I saw you come in with Puck, oh dearie I always notice Puck," he added seeing her surprise. "When you came in on his arm I assumed he had finally gotten over our dear Quinn, but here you are alone and she is currently neglecting her washing duties and cannot be found. What do you think that means?" he asked, feigned confusion on his face.
She had been told that he had no problem being familiar with low born slaves, but even taking Brittany into consideration this was the most casual conversation she'd ever had with someone above her station. That added with the fact that she hadn't really understood half of what he said made her keep her mouth shut.
"Here you are," said Blaine as he handed her a plate littered with different meats and complementing breads.
Kurt looked at it and pouted, "Now I want one."
Apparently knowing that was coming, Blaine provided a second plate for Kurt and a sly wink, the small man took it and gave a coy smile in return that's meaning couldn't be confused. Though she had been warned, Santana was still shocked to see their display happen so obviously and publicly. Even more surprising was that clearly several of the stall's patrons had seen the exchange and not one person seemed even slightly bothered.
"Thank you, Blaine, I'll see you again soon," he said with a grin.
Blaine's smile grew and he winked back before turning to a woman who had just arrived to order food as if nothing major had happened, and given the reaction of everyone, nothing had.
Kurt finally removed his arm from her shoulder to start eating the bountiful meal before him, Santana still wasn't sure of the man, but if he was as he seemed she really liked him.
"Come on, dear, let's go to my tent, I have a wine there that will make the flavor in the pork just explode," he said before biting off a mouthful of bread.
She wanted to turn him down and disappear somewhere, still fearing this to be some sort of jape or a calm reprieve before he had her seized and beaten, but when he began to walk away, talking animatedly as if he were positive she would follow she did. She wanted to avoid being rude to the man who had given her the first real meal she'd had since the Evans', besides he was intriguing she couldn't help but want to know more.
He led her to a tent at the center of their camp that looked more like a tall, well-lit cottage made of leather. The leather was painted to match his banner colors of blue and grey, but the blue was very light and the grey was closer to white, it gave a light and airy feel to the structure even though it was heavy and closed.
There were hastily built stone steps that led to the interior and there Santana realized how large this particular tent actually was. As it turned out all of the smaller tents around it adjoined to the main one, making a sort of tent castle, though nowhere near as complex as the intricate one she was used to.
She stood, uneasy and still, as Kurt disappeared behind one of the silk curtains that led to one of the many branches of his temporary home, after a moment he reemerged with a bottle of wine and two goblets. He had a triumphant smirk on his face as he sat down, one that faltered when he eyed her still standing by the doorway, awkwardly holding her plate.
"What are you doing? Come, sit. I swear I'm not part scorpion."
She managed a weak smile at the joke and carefully came closer, sitting in the seat opposite his as he poured her a glass of the blood red wine.
"Thank you," she said tensely, took the goblet and marveled at it.
The cup was bejeweled with diamonds and rubies inlaid to its golden body; she had never touched anything worth so much in her entire life. The idea of drinking from it made her fidget, but when she looked up and saw the expectant eyes of her host she did so anyway.
The taste was almost overwhelming and it far outstretched even the good wines Puck managed to smuggle form the kitchens from time to time. Pleased, she downed more and had almost finished the entire goblet when Kurt laughed, pulling it away from her and filling it again.
"Slow down! Like I said, try it with the pork, they go together quite well," he laughed.
She blushed and nodded as she did as she was asked and was forced to immediately agree with him, the dryness of the wine and the grease from the pork mixed, cancelled each other out and then produced something wonderful.
"You're right," she said unable to contain the delight in her voice.
"Of course I'm right…" He observed her closely for a moment then gasped, placing his hand over his heart, "My goodness, where are my manners?! I haven't asked your name."
Almost choking in her haste to answer she swallowed thickly, then replied, "Santana."
His eyes began to twinkle again, "What a lovely name! From the sound of it you must be from the Far South, beyond the kingdom's borders. Well, at least your name is."
"My parents were," she said.
"Ah," he said knowingly, "I see. So! What brings you here?"
She frowned, "I was sold from place to place until the king sovereign bought me."
"Nonono, here. To my camp," he said his tone making it plain that he was curious and nothing more.
"Oh…" She paused and then a blush crept over her face as she remembered the reason, "Puck said it would be fun."
Kurt's mouth twitched at the edges, "Knowing what Puck finds fun I must assume you are here to lure some of the men who are lounging in the camp into providing what Puck apparently cannot."
"N-no," she stammered and hated herself for it.
He considered her answer with a playful curiosity and after a moment that twinkle returned to his eyes and his lips once again began to tug upwards, "I see, so you aren't here for my vast selection of gentlemen? Am I understanding this correctly?"
Determined not to stutter again she answered him a little louder than she had to, "Yes."
"Do you juggle?" he asked.
She felt herself in danger of stumbling over her words again, "Wha… uh, no."
"Do you play an instrument?"
"No."
"Do you sing?"
"Not for others."
"Are you trying to escape from the Abrams'?"
"No!" she answered strongly, for some reason feeling like answering incorrectly would have Azimio come barging through the tent.
Now his eyes were practically sparkling with light and his grin was almost scandalously huge, "I see, so you aren't here looking for employ, and you aren't here to juggle, sing or try to discuss such things with people that do and you aren't here for the men. I will assume that as a servant you have no money hence why you were trying to walk away from Blaine's divine cooking." He paused to take another bite of meat, "Meaning you can't be here to buy anything and you are empty handed, so no trade. Now, having eliminated all the things you aren't here for I return to your declaration that you came for what Puck told you would be 'fun'. I have to ask you to define fun, because I need to know what was worth risking a lashing to come and see or do."
Santana was speechless, he had cornered her rather thoroughly, "I really should go," she said placing her plate on the table and rising to leave.
Kurt stood quickly as well, placing a gentle yet firm hand on her shoulder, "Alright, calm down, you don't have to tell me. I can see you have a problem giving trust…" He wavered and gave her an almost parental look of understanding, "And other problems that are well within your right to not tell me about."
She tried not to stare rudely back, well within her rights? Puck had been correct, he was like no other lord that had ever existed. And she had the nagging feeling that he was trying to imply he knew why she was really there, but there was no way he could know.
Kurt released her and she sat back down, immediately eating more of the delicious meat to give her something to do besides look uncomfortable. He watched her eat and eventually glanced at one of the silk curtains that separated the sections of his home behind where she sat, deep in thought.
After a moment he turned back to her looking serious, Kurt sat back in his seat and took a bite of bread before he spoke again. "Listen, I have a couple of friends I met some time ago who came looking for the same thing I think you are. They spoke of their shared interest and as it turned out they were able to… help one another. They should be sleeping about now, but if you wake them and tell them I sent you I am sure they will be more than happy to tell you about what it was they went through. Now, I may be wrong and if I am, please forgive me and ignore the ramblings of a man that has maybe traveled the world a little too much," he said conversationally while indicating the silk partition just behind her.
Santana stared at him levelly, not understanding what his purpose was in telling her all this, but she decided that since he had bought her food, given her finer wine than even Archibald had tasted and treated her like an equal, the least she could do was oblige him. She finished her meat, bread and wine in silence with Kurt before she stood and cautiously approached the silk divider he had indicated.
Before she entered he called out to her, "Santana?" she turned, startled by the sound of his voice, "In case I don't see you again, or I insult you to the point you go out of your way to never see me again, I wish you the best."
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she appreciated the sentiment and nodded, "Thank you for the food… and the kindness," she said before she moved forward.
Once through the divider, she had expected to be in another tent, but instead she was in a hallway composed of the same material the main building was. Feeling a little alarmed, she walked down the long hall until she saw another silk curtain in front of her. She approached carefully, fearing an ambush of some sort despite all of Kurt's kindness. The first thing she heard made her think she had just walked in on the previous victim to this trap, but as she crouched down and pulled the curtain back slightly her breath left her throat and her mouth hung open not taking in one bit of air.
Before her was everything she was sure she would never find and all she had imagined, though it was nothing like she thought. In the center of the tent, atop a bed of sheets and furs, there was a woman as naked as the day she was born, her blonde hair spread out behind her as she moaned in pleasure. A pleasure that was being given to her by another equally naked woman with her face buried between her legs.
Santana tried to swallow, but it was like there was nothing but dust in her throat, her brain was buzzing trying to comprehend what she was looking at. No matter how she tried to figure otherwise, she finally accepted that she was watching the very thing that she was sure couldn't happen between two women, at least not with results as pleasurable as being with a man. If the blonde was anything to go by, she had been more than a little wrong. She knew she shouldn't be staring at them like she was, but she was literally rooted to the spot, she couldn't feel anything but her head, which was fuzzy and reeling, and a very specific spot much lower that was thrumming in a more uncomfortably insistent manner with every passing moment.
The dark haired woman who was offering her lover such pleasure ceased her movements, much to the blonde's distress and moved up her body to kiss her passionately and Santana almost whimpered as her mind easily made the two women become herself and Brittany. In that moment she knew nothing she was seeing would make anything any better and if she wanted to ever be able have a moment's peace again in life she would need to move - but she didn't.
She couldn't.
Santana was lost now, there was nothing she could do; she was lost in a fantasy of her and Brittany and all the things she had wanted to do but hadn't known how. She was more aware of her limbs now as her muscles burned from being crouched and still for so long and still she couldn't make herself turn away. When the brunette kissed her lover even deeper and pushed herself into the blonde Santana remembered thinking that the position was perplexing and more than likely uncomfortable, but the sound that emanated from both women shook her to the core and a fresh wave of warmth took even the sting of her aching muscles away.
Her breath was coming in small, short gasps and she could feel the wetness of arousal in her underclothes, her thoughts were only of herself and her own blonde with ocean blue eyes, enjoying each other's bodies in the same way. Then her trance was broken as she heard a loud laugh from nearby.
It came from somewhere outside of the tent, but it was enough to make her realize what she was doing and the moment it hit her she felt panic replace everything else.
How had Kurt known about her? Was it that obvious? Was there some way to just look and tell? Had he known this was what she would find?
An irrational terror took hold of her and she yanked the leather tarp up from the ground and scurried under it, desperate to get away from the tent, the caravan, all of it. With great effort she pulled herself out of the faux hallway and took off running for the same area she had come in through. As she ran she felt like everyone could see inside her, see what she had been watching, knew how it had made her blood run hot and she became mortified with herself all over again. Distantly she was aware that she should wait for Puck and that even if there was a big sign over her head telling her secret no one at the camp would care, but those thoughts didn't break past her barrier of fear.
She ran from the camp, to the castle and through the main hallways to her room without even trying not to be caught. In fact, she would have been relieved to run into Karofsky or Azimio, a beating would take her mind away from that tent and those women whose every movement was burned into her mind and nothing she did drowned it out. To her distress she reached her destination without running into anyone and in the dark seclusion of her room it was all worse. She lay in her bed keeping her hands well away from herself and sang tremulously to the empty air, hoping not to hear the sounds that were bouncing around in her head. It didn't work at all, but eventually she fell into a sleep that had her waking up even more frustrated than when she had gone to bed.