Come morning the only relief Santana was offered was that, due to such a harrowing night, she was too exhausted to be overly troubled when she rose the next morning and saw Brittany laying in bed, the covers bunched at her feet and her gown halfway up her body. The sight did make Santana groan in frustration and her thoughts immediately went to all the wrong places, but her body just buzzed with all the excitement it could manage and, given how tired she was, it wasn't much.
Despite her lack of a notable physical reaction, Santana went out of her way to avoid direct contact with Brittany. She knew better; she knew no matter how weary she was the heat of the blonde's touch would ignite every frayed nerve in her body and make it burn out. Her efforts were noticed and it clearly confused and upset the queen, but Santana was still too worn out to even try and deal with that, her life had just thrown another heaping helping of trouble on a plate already full of it, and she needed time to adjust.
All internal torment aside, she was able to get her mistress out the door and to the dining hall in time to have her morning meal. Archibald arrived shortly thereafter with Matthew, Karofsky and Tina in tow as was now his habit, soon the kitchen servants brought out their food and the king and queen began to eat a peaceful breakfast. Peaceful until the young king broke the silence that is.
"Matthew," he said quietly and the other man stepped forward in response. It was then that Santana was shocked to see the king pointing at her, "Send that one and Karofsky to fetch Lord Hummel to join us."
There was a silence and the only movement was the pointless opening and closing of Matthew's mouth before he was able to speak again, "My lord?"
"You heard me," he said softly.
Clearly struggling with whether or not to speak out, Matthew didn't move for a moment before he continued, "If I may be so bold Majesty, sending a servant to fetch a lord… even the queen's, even with Karofsky, is sure to be seen as a slight."
Archibald looked peevishly stubborn as he shrugged, "Will it? I am merely asking him to join our meal as we discuss the terms of this ceasefire. And he is practically known for his love of servants, so I'm sure he won't mind."
"To discuss… but surely you mean to do that later during court-"
"Do I, Matthew?! Do I also mean to sit here and be questioned by my servants?!"
The matter was clearly not up for further debate, Matthew just sighed and nodded for Santana to go with Karofsky. It surprised her to find that the burly man was about as interested in their assignment as she was.
They both walked down the long, winding servants stairwells to the courtyard in silence, both lost in their own worlds. Santana, at least partially distracted from the events of the previous night, was almost in awe of the king's insatiable need to cause trouble for himself. She, like everyone else in the kingdom, knew how badly he needed this alliance to go well and yet he still sent a servant to fetch the emissary. Even she knew that any self respecting lord doing the job Hummel was would expect to be greeted by a member of the council at the very least and the king's chamberlain at most. This was meant to humiliate the other man, to make him seem like a child being called to his parent's side. It was foolish and made their king seem the child.
They arrived at the camp in good time, the morning light taking away some of the mystery of the night before, or maybe it was because Santana had gleamed some of its secrets during her brief stay, either way the tents seemed far less daunting in the morning sun.
Entering the camp by a direct route instead of through the cover of darkness the tents provided gave Santana a different view of things as well. She found that there were several guards posted at the entrance, guards that halted them and discerned their purpose before one left the group to inform his lord of their intentions.
In the moments that passed, Karofsky began to look more and more agitated and after a while he fell back several lengths, leaving Santana to look like she had come alone. If she still hadn't borne such a strong hatred for the man she might have asked him to return, but as it was, any distance between them was fine by her.
Kurt appeared momentarily after Karofsky's retreat, looking more stunning and dainty than most of the ladies that lived right outside the castle gates. He had on a lovely, dusky gold tunic that was ruffled and accented with sparkling blue lace and his pants were a melody of various colors sewn together at the sides with thick leather. Santana would have looked him over more thoroughly and maybe noted how soft his short, silky hair looked, but the sight of him made the past night's events crash to the front of her mind and her cheeks flushed red.
When he walked forward and saw her, the look that crossed his face made her believe he knew of the slight he had been dealt, but instead of complaining about his escort he rushed to her, taking her hands in his.
"Oh, Santana, I'm so sorry! What must you think of me? I asked Emily how your talk went and when she said she didn't see you because she was… otherwise occupied I figured you must have seen. Please do not think I am some sort of degenerate, I honestly didn't know," he pleaded, his face sincere and honest.
Kurt's confession made her feel much better, though she wasn't sure why - it changed nothing about her current situation. "It's alright," she said, hoping it would calm him.
He let out a deep breath and took her arm in his as though they were companions on a stroll, "Thank the heavens. I was so worried I had done irreparable damage to our friendship, I mean, I was already taking a risk in assuming you three shared the same interests at all."
"I think no less of you," was all she could say, she couldn't bring herself to mention that he had been quite on target with his assumptions.
As they walked they approached the place where Karofsky stood, and upon seeing them the man's face went rigid with rage, his beady eyes fixed harshly on Kurt.
To his credit, the smaller man looked up and smiled jovially as they passed, almost singing, "Hello, David," making the impossibly stony face tighten more. When they were quite some distance from him he began to follow keeping the space between them.
Santana frowned sideways at the burly man, making sure to keep her voice low, "You like Karofsky?"
"Hmm?" he hummed absently, "Oh no, not particularly. A few years ago, when we were both younger, he came to my camp seeking something that he found in my bed chambers and has spent every moment since glaring at me like it might make me forget. I haven't though, not the sex, the fact that he curled up into a ball while crying afterwards or that he came back more than once."
Santana didn't know if she was surprised or totally and utterly shocked, she opted for the latter by the time they reached the dining hall.
The king and queen were sitting right where she had left them still pleasantly enjoying their food. The king didn't even acknowledge Kurt when he came in the door, a deliberate act of dismissal since his clothes alone would be enough to gain the attention of someone several leagues away. The small man calmly walked in and sat in the seat offered to him by Matthew, a few places away from the king himself.
Brittany greeted him politely, something Santana could tell irritated her husband, and he waved amiably back at her. After an unnecessarily long pause Archibald looked over to the other man with a smile that didn't reach any other part of his face.
"Lord Hummel," the king said, regarding the smaller man with cool indifference.
"Your Majesty," the reply was prompt, respectful and void of any sign of irritation. Santana found herself impressed by that as she watched while slipping back into her place against the wall next to Tina.
"Would you like something to eat?" Brittany asked lightly, a smile on her face, one that vanished with the glare Archibald shot at her.
"No, Highness, I have already eaten, but thank you."
With an irritated sigh Archibald turned back to Kurt, "So," he began, wiping his mouth slowly, as if wanting to waste as much time as possible, "What are the terms that Lord Schuester wishes to set forward?"
Kurt, in a blatant mockery of the king's sudden interest, took his time in answering, picking a few non-existent pieces of lint off his pants before replying, "They aren't really terms. Lord Schuester asks that you cease and desist all efforts to evict your citizens from their properties."
Archibald frowned, "In exchange for what?"
Kurt mimicked his facial expression, "In exchange for them not killing every single soldier that comes to take their homes."
Santana didn't think that Archibald's face could turn as red as his banners, but it did, "So he thinks to send threats instead of terms for peace?!"
"Oh, absolutely not, my deepest apologies if it seemed that way. The people of the South are quite disturbed by what has been happening since your father's campaign began and they decided they would rather fight and die than lose their lands. When I say that, I mean they would rather fight you or the king sovereign, whosoever they felt was the threat. I will not lie and say that Lord Schuester does not agree with them and back their cause, but you should know that with or without him the South will rebel should things continue as they have."
"Maybe so, but without William the West and North won't follow!" Archibald spat angrily.
"They already have Majesty, the South is just the most… visceral about it."
He paused, "And you know this as fact?"
Kurt shrugged, "As much as a man traveling through towns in those areas can be sure. It's not like I have received any sort of official notice about it, but I think it is quite plain they do not intend to watch you take their land."
"Their land?!" he barked.
"Correct," Kurt said innocently.
"So this is why you are here? To tell me that they do not offer any sort of compensation or even so much as an apology for what they did and to furthermore inform me that the same insult will happen again if I attempt to take land that is rightfully mine?!"
There was a moment where Kurt considered this and finally he sighed, "Essentially you have the heart of it, but this is not meant as an insult. They offer no apologies or gifts, because they are not sorry and know you wouldn't accept them besides, and yes the land they farm in actuality belongs to the crown, but you must realize these aren't just farms and houses, these are ancestral homes where they and their parents were born. I am here on their behalf to ask you to not throw them aside to fortify your castle, especially since we are not actively at war with anyone on our land. This is a time of peace and you are asking your subjects to make wartime sacrifices."
Brittany listened to his words and Santana could tell she was trying desperately to grasp it all. "It is a little much," she said in the quiet that fell. "Maybe we could reach some sort of agreement with them and get them to let us borrow their homes temporarily, but only when under attack."
Kurt smiled at the offer, but Archibald's eyes flashed dangerously, "My love," he said quietly as he reached over and cupped her cheek softly. "Perhaps you shouldn't worry yourself about such things as you clearly do not understand what we are discussing here."
His words were kind, but Santana could see him slip his hands into her hair as he spoke and judging from the way the tendons in his arm suddenly jumped, and the apprehensive smile on Brittany's face that was replaced by one of the fake ones she used when she was trying not to cry, she had to assume he had a fierce grip on her.
She nodded imperceptibly and when Archibald removed his hand she looked determinedly at her food and did not speak again. Santana felt a swell of rage for the man that rivaled her ever burning hatred for Karofsky.
"Her Majesty makes a good offer," Kurt said, he had clearly seen the exchange for what it was as his face was disapproving, but continued on as if he hadn't, "If you insist on pressing them as you have been, then Lord Schuester will indeed rally the other castellans to join his cause and, if their forces are not enough, they may turn to the enemies of the crown."
"You dare to-" the king started.
But Kurt cut him off, "I dare to nothing, Highness, I am merely the messenger in this case. William has no more desire for war than you do, but the people must be heard. If you ignore this, if you try and push them they will push back in any way they can. You must understand that if you take them from their homes they will have nothing and those who aren't in danger of it now will fear the day when a fancy for their land might overtake their king. It is the lack of necessity and sympathy that is starting this rebellion and nothing else. I am more than willing to travel back and forth between you as many times as it takes to resolve this issue, and please believe I want it resolved. The South will concede to fair conditions, but you have to make them first."
The king leapt from his seat, "You want me to fold to my own subjects? You think their threats carry any weight in this castle?! You think I am so much of a fool I would show even my closest council that much weakness?! They think because my father is gone they can run all over me, do they?!"
Kurt had risen as well and Matthew was tentatively trying to calm Archibald with soft words, but everything was lost under the sound of his rage.
"I am not making threats or boasts! No one calls you weak, but many are beginning to fear you are cruel and unyielding!" Kurt snapped, all of his calm pretense gone.
Archibald's eyes narrowed darkly, "Then go back and tell them that the offer their king makes is their unconditional and immediate cooperation, and I suggest you pack your caravan and leave my castle before I decide to truly be cruel and unyielding."
There was no room for argument in that and Kurt didn't try, he only bowed deeply and showed himself out, Karofsky glowered hotly as he passed to which Kurt responded with a smile.
Once he had gone Matthew stepped forward looking pale, "Sire, what have you done?"
Archibald rounded on him so fast his slick hair fell into his crazed eyes, "I will not be told what to do by my own subjects!"
"But this will start the very war your father asked you to suppress."
The king's laugh was high and derisive, "What do I have to fear from wine makers and cow herders? The majority of their force has been sent here or overseas with my father, they don't have the manpower to stand against me."
"If they join with our enemies they will!"
"That kind of alliance will take years to cultivate, especially if they send freaks like Hummel to do their talking. I will have broken them into submission by then."
"They aren't that weak! You are underestimating their current forces all while overestimating ours! I told you that you need to prove you are a better leader than Lord Schuester, at this rate all the kingdom will see you as is an ill-tempered bully. You have made a very serious decision without so much as even conferring with the Council."
Those grey eyes almost turned black with rage, "You forget your place, Matthew! You are addressing a king! You dare imply I need the Council's permission to do anything?! That I am not in fact a greater ruler than Schuester?!" Before Matthew could reply he rounded on Brittany, who was quite surprised to be addressed as she hadn't moved an inch since he silenced her, "And you!"
Santana had known rage before, she had grown up with it as her only friend, but what she felt when Archibald smacked Brittany across the face hard enough to throw her to the ground was something new and far more volatile.
Brittany hit the floor hard and was already bleeding profusely from her mouth when Archibald started kicking her as hard as he could repeatedly, "If you ever open your mouth again during official discussions. I. Will. Kill. You. Understand?!" Archibald shouted, accenting his words with more kicks to her stomach.
Santana saw red, and as had happened before, she started moving towards them without even thinking about it. Once she'd get there she would kill him, she would rip him apart, she wasn't sure how far she could get, but Karofsky was still glaring after Kurt, so she was sure she could open an artery before he got to her. Her feet were moving faster now, though this time it was deliberate and purposeful. Then suddenly a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back to the wall and Santana was just cognizant enough to realize it was Tina.
"Let me go," she growled, because this was it, she was really going to kill the man.
Instead of loosening her grip, Tina held her tighter, pressed her hard against the wall and whispered in her ear, "Stop it! You won't help her, you will only make it worse. I know it's hard to watch, but you have to stay out of it!"
Her voice was sharp and stern and when Santana turned to look at her she saw sad, tired eyes looking back. But how could Tina understand all the ways this was killing her? She could hear him still driving his boots into her and could hear Brittany try to scream even though the pain had stolen her voice.
Tears were burning in her eyes and she couldn't stand it, but she knew Tina was right, there was nothing she could do that wouldn't make everything so much worse.
Luckily, Matthew managed to rattle off a list of duties that needed to be performed as well as the necessity of a battle strategy if he were planning to fight. It would seem to the casual observer that he had just brushed off all that had just happened and had decided to move on with the day, but Santana saw it for what it really was. An attempt to distract the king from his current task which was to beat the life out of his wife. The ploy worked and soon Archibald was straightening his hair and calling Tina and Karofsky to him as he swept from the room.
Wasting no time Santana rushed to Brittany's side, feeling her chest tighten upon seeing the blonde lying on the floor, trying desperately not to cry. She had no idea what to do, but when Brittany tried to sit up, winced in pain and fell back to the floor Santana caught her and managed to set her upright gently.
The kitchen staff came in swiftly, as they always did, picking up plates and crumbs and righting the queen's toppled chair, all ignoring the scene in the middle of the floor. However, when Michael came in and saw Brittany's state he rushed right to her side.
"What do I do?" Santana asked, feeling more panic with every moment that passed with blood still streaming from Brittany's mouth.
"Beiste, we need Beiste," he said quickly, got up and sprinted away.
Santana thought he had lost his mind momentarily and then remembered that was the name of Brittany's healer. The blonde sat dazed and bleeding and Santana was just panicked, wishing she knew of some way to help, nothing came to her except to speak kind soothing words until the large bull of a woman came and scooped the wounded queen up into her arms. Santana was a little shocked as she hadn't heard the approach, but quickly got over it and trailed after her as she took Brittany out of the dining hall.
Beiste brought them back to the queen's room, lay the smaller woman down on her bed and pulled a leather bag out from underneath it that contained all sorts of supplies. Santana wondered how bad things must really be if the healer kept spare tools in her room.
It wasn't long before the bleeding stopped and her stomach was examined, the damage turning out to be nothing more serious than bad bruises. The enormous woman turned to her looking about as worried as Santana felt.
"She'll be alright. Just… do your best to keep her on her own for a time. Those bruises are bad, but consider her lucky, if something like that happens again too soon I may need to open her stomach to treat her."
Santana did not like the sound of that, so she nodded firmly. The healer smiled softly, returned her tools to their previous spot and left, dropping the two women into a heavy silence. Brittany was sitting quite still on the edge of the bed, looking at the floor. Even when Santana approached and knelt by her she still wouldn't avert her gaze.
"Do you feel better?" she asked, knowing the question was foolish, but not knowing what else to say.
Brittany shook her head and continued to stare at the floor before she spoke, "Why does everyone hate me?"
"I don't hate you," Santana said quickly with exasperation, they had already been through this before.
"Then why do you always avoid me whenever you can or flinch when I touch you?"
She didn't want to answer that, "It's not because I hate you."
"Then why?" Brittany's voice cracked and tears sprang to her eyes and Santana was too worn out to fight the pull those eyes had. Her whole body was weary from the effort of keeping her feelings inside, especially when there was constantly something scratching at her, trying to make her loosen her grip on the truths she kept clutched to her chest.
"Because I care about you too much," she sighed, giving up the fight and if her mind hadn't been so worn out and sleep deprived it would have screamed at her for the admission.
Brittany's brow furrowed in confusion, "Santana, I care about you too, but I don't show it by avoiding you."
She made the horrible mistake of looking directly into those blue eyes and they held her there, she was stuck in a deadly trap and the bad part was she didn't even want to get out, "I care more than I should, more than I am allowed to and I think it's better if I'm not so close to you all the time." She continued to spew the truth even when her mind started to catch up and began making efforts to try and clamp her mouth shut.
"I don't understand," Brittany said quietly, tilting her head with her eyebrows knit together and Santana couldn't help but smile.
However, she realized that in the silence her body had been moving without permission again and she comprehended in a flash that she was moving to kiss Brittany, the queen of Abrams Castle, in her room, on her bed. She tried to stop, but her traitorous eye moved from Brittany's naturally pink lips to her eyes again and Santana had no choice but to let it happen. And it happened.
It was sudden and for a brief moment Santana felt like she might actually be on fire; then it was broken by a pair of hands pushing her back and she saw confusion and fright staring back at her from those gorgeous blue eyes. That of course was the time her senses returned and her mind shrieked at her in the common language and her long forgotten tongue at the same time. It didn't need to do any of that though, the way the queen looked at her let her know what kind of a terrible blunder it was.
Before the blonde could say a word, panic seized Santana and she ran. Out the door, down through winding steps, past Hummel's tents which were already being taken down, and into the forest by the river. She splashed through the water and ran until she burst from the trees, coming to the cliff's edge promptly, putting a stop to her fleeing much to her dismay, because she wanted to keep going until her feet were raw. But she knew it was useless to try to go back to the gate to escape into the city and she couldn't even consider facing Brittany at the moment, so she turned and collapsed panting on the ground, only to realize in dismay that it was the same place the private festivities had been held.
She groaned loudly and fell on her back, looking up at the sky as the sea whispered in her ear. She lay in the dirt and considered briefly what would happen if she just jumped in the ocean and swam, she wondered how far she would get. Not far enough to escape Archibald's wrath once Brittany told him what happened she assumed. Though she doubted Brittany would tell him much of anything for a while, she expected to at least be banished somewhere. If not out of the castle then maybe to the stables or somewhere away from her, and honestly that would be for the best.
The sun shone high in the sky with her lying in the dirt perfectly still, berating herself for being such a fool until her stillness and the soft whisper of the tide made her tired body drift to sleep.
When her eyes opened again it was dark and she was highly alarmed, though the fact that night had fallen did disturb her, the loud shout that had woken her worried her more. Santana sat bolt upright as she looked around, her eyes adjusting quickly to the moon's faint light. That was when she saw, off a small ways by the trees, a tall figure throwing rocks and branches around like a very angry groundskeeper.
She sat up and was about to run away from this worrisome person when she recognized him; it was Michael. For a moment she thought to leave anyway, but after he threw another rock he leaned against a tree and sank to the ground, weeping loudly. Santana, as always, knew it was none of her concern and to stay out of it, but true to form she didn't follow any of these instincts and moved closer.
"Michael?" she said tentatively as she approached.
His sobs stopped for a moment and when he turned to her she saw the pain in his streaked face, "Santana."
"What happened?"
"The same thing that happens every time our king decides that he is bored of bedding his queen," he growled.
Santana understood right away, "Oh."
He leapt up suddenly with the agility of a cat and threw another stone that cleared the cliff's edge easily before it began to plummet to the sea.
"She is my wife!" he screamed at no one and nothing as Santana sat watching, "She is my beautiful, loving wife not his whore!"
Michael turned and kicked a tree behind him with such force the branches shook and leaves rained down on them. After that outburst he sank back to his previous position his chest heaving with rage and sorrow. Santana didn't know if Michael and Tina felt the same way about everything, but she decided that pity in any form would be of no use.
She sat next to him in silence, looking anywhere but at him, and in doing so noticed many marks and breaks in the trees by the clearing, "This is where you come to let out your anger," she said, already knowing it was true.
"I must do something, if not defend her as a man should, then at least this."
Santana nodded, "I need to find something too, but I'm not as strong as you. If I tried to kick a tree I'd break my foot."
She could see him looking at her from her corner of her eye, "This place is terrible, but what do you need relief from so badly."
There was only so much truth she could dish out in one night, "You don't want to hear my woes right now."
"Oh, I do. Otherwise I will think of my own and destroy more trees."
Santana wondered momentarily if he was the one that created the clearing before she pushed the thought aside and spoke, "Me. I need to get away from myself."
He gave her a searching look, "Why? If you don't mind telling."
The gentleness of his question prompted her to give at least a half answer, "I'm… I'm not normal."
Michael seemed to sense her need for secrecy and nodded, "I don't know how someone like you could be worried about such things, but I can tell you this. Here, normal is taking land from men who have worked their whole lives to keep it fertile, to capture free people and make them slaves in a foreign land, for men to force themselves on women that are not their wives and to beat the ones that are in pointless anger. That, Santana, is normal here. So if you find yourself not being that, maybe you should embrace it a bit more instead of trying to run from it."
She couldn't see a flaw in his words, "I suppose."
The night continued to be deathly still and Santana began to wonder what sort of punishment awaited her back at the castle, if not for the kiss, for being gone all day. She also thought maybe Michael wanted to be alone to continue his rampage, but he hadn't asked her to go, nor had he even inquired as to how she had gotten there, so she remained at his side, because it was more comforting than she wanted to admit to not be alone.
"When we first began our travels," Michael said suddenly, capturing Santana's attention immediately, "we went to the desert lands. It was far hotter than anything we were used to and luckily we were young enough to survive the foolish mistake of not bringing enough clothes to protect us from the sun. Eventually we came upon a Mandir, a type of temple, and the monks that resided there were very kind. They gave us food and shelter and shared their vast knowledge which we secretly considered to be the most valuable thing they gave us." He chuckled slightly at the memory and paused as he collected his thoughts, Santana waited patiently, "The monks also talked of their faiths and their gods, not that it was surprising, even though we hadn't traveled for very long we had come across many faiths, but this one was interesting. They spoke of the soul, like it was something that was tied to this world, coming and going and collecting good deeds for its final rest. They said that when someone dies they are reborn, maybe right away, maybe many seasons later into another body. The most interesting part to me was that two souls could sometimes find each other in a different life, that somehow they would be drawn together."
Santana frowned at him, "You believe that?"
"I would like to. It would be a great comfort to think that once I die I can come back at a different time, a better time, and meet Lihua again. I would be able to fall in love with her again and when I wed her, keep her to myself."
She could easily see the romance in that, but it seemed a flimsy idea since it allowed for them to be reborn at completely different seasons and probably in one not too far removed from the one they were currently in.
"That would be nice." It really would.
"Santana, if I don't regain my freedom and my wife soon, I am going to kill Archibald," he said flatly.
It hadn't been said in hopes of receiving a reply, it was merely informative. Santana would have lectured him on how foolish it was to even think that way, but she didn't. Even though attacking the king, whether successful or not, would end in his death, she secretly hoped he did it.
To Santana's surprise her return to the castle was completely unremarkable. The moon was bright in the sky and she was able to surmise that it was well past time for the queen to be asleep, meaning she should be in her quarters as well. Not sure whether the time made it permissible for her to walk boldly through the halls or not she snuck trough the shadows to her room and slipped in unnoticed.
When she lay down in the bed she realized that she had slept all day, leaving her wide awake for the rest of the night, awake to revisit Michael's words in her head and try to accept what she clearly was… whatever that was, and to feel the still tingling skin on her lips where she had pressed them against Brittany's. She tried to focus more on Michael, but the morning found her laying on her back, eyes wide open, thinking only of how soft they were and how desperately she wanted to feel them again.
When the sun rose she went into the queen's room to wake her, almost as exhausted as she had been the previous morning, and was surprised to find her already up and in her clothes though the laces in the back weren't tied correctly.
"Morning," Brittany said shyly and her eyes were darting around nervously.
Santana sighed, she had been expecting this, "My queen, I want to apologize for yesterday, it was very wrong of me. It won't happen again," she recited from a deep bow; however, when she stood she could see Brittany was distressed.
"It's alright… you don't have to apologize and you can still call me Brittany," her eyes had settled on Santana finally and she seemed slightly more comfortable.
"I should retie your bodice," she said and then quickly amended, "I promise I won't do anything else."
Brittany shuffled from foot to foot, clearly not knowing what to say, but finally nodded, "Alright."
Santana did exactly as she said she would and didn't run her hands over the smooth skin that was revealed in the unlacing even though she wanted to so badly it made her fingertips ache. While tying them back together she pulled at the strings and was surprised when Brittany doubled over, for a moment she thought she had accidentally caused some new offense, but then she remembered the bruises and felt like she deserved a swift kick for forgetting them.
"Sorry! I forgot!" she cried, trying to help the other woman stand.
"I'm fine, just be gentle," she said stiffly, the pain was still there, but she was pretending it wasn't to be strong in front of Santana and the smaller woman couldn't help but feel that weird warmth flood her chest again.
As she started to tie the laces again, slowly and tenderly as she could, she let her curiosity get the better of her, "I thought you would have called the guards on me."
"Why would I do that?" Brittany asked in genuine confusion.
"Because… of what happened."
"Oh!" and she could see the blush on her cheeks from over Brittany's shoulder. "I wouldn't call them for that, I mean, you surprised me is all…"
"What about afterwards when I was missing?"
She shrugged lightly, "I didn't leave my room anyway and no one came looking for me," she said sadly.
Santana violently fought the urge to hug her and finished her task. When it was complete she stepped away and Brittany smiled that beautiful smile, making the darker woman want to escape to the forest again. "We should go," she said quickly.
She could see Brittany reach for her, see her trying to regain the closeness they'd had before Santana had gone so strange and she could see the disappointment on the queen's face when she was left behind as Santana marched out the door before her.
When they entered the dining hall Santana feared a scene like the one that had occurred the previous morning, but Archibald had actually moved his wife's chair to the space opposite his at the end of their perilously long table that was meant to seat at least a hundred men. It left Archibald, Tina, Matthew and Karofsky at one end and Brittany and Santana at the other. The distance was such that Brittany could talk to Santana without fear of reprisal, at least she could before Archibald noticed her talking to her servant from his position and sent Matthew to keep an eye on her.
He did, but merely warned Brittany to keep her voice low, because he, like Santana, couldn't bear the look on her face when he tried to tell her she still couldn't talk during meals.
When they left the dining hall later, once again Brittany tried to grab Santana's arm and once again she was avoided. It was Santana's new plan and she was determined to see it through, so the whole day progressed that way, the queen trying and Santana denying. Even during her bath contact was sparse and Santana refused to look in the tub even if it meant she missed Brittany's back once or twice when trying to scrub it.
Once she had tucked Brittany into bed and said a formal and distant goodbye, she went to the river to wash her clothing. There were others to do this chore for her, but she found the repetitive work a little calming and she needed that at the moment. Besides, she would be working by a source of ice cold water, so it would be easy to just dunk her whole head into the stream should her thoughts take a wrong turn.
The day had been stressful for her. The only thing worse than having to deny Brittany something was to have to see her face fall afterwards. She didn't know why, but she wanted to give the woman everything she ever wanted and more; a desire only enhanced when Brittany would focus those startlingly blue eyes on her. Suddenly she felt the need to go back to the clearing by the cliffs and try her luck at tree kicking, because she was so mad at herself for falling victim to such undefinable feelings, it wasn't fair that she be afflicted with this strange attraction to women and then become fixated on the one person she could never have.
Her anger at her situation led her to toss her clothes down and wash them with more vigor than was necessary. The anger kept her focused and cleared her head of all else; it also kept her from noticing a presence approach her from behind, not until she felt warm arms around her and smelled a perfume so familiar she could identify it in her sleep. Knowing exactly who it was she scrambled to her feet, almost dropping all of her clothes in the river.
"Bri… er, Your Highness, what are you doing out here?!" she squeaked, because her voice couldn't do stern and surprised quite right.
She looked at Santana with a sad smile, "You weren't in your room, so I asked where you might be and I was told to come here."
"Yes, but…" deciding that it was pointless to discuss that further she said, "I would have come back."
"But I didn't know when and I didn't want to wait."
"For what?"
Brittany stepped closer and Santana stepped back, but her retreat was cut off by the river, Brittany took advantage and moved quickly to capture Santana's face and press her lips to a very surprised lady in waiting. Santana's eyes were wide with shock and her mind went completely blank leaving her body to make all the decisions and, seeing as how it was continually doing whatever it wanted these days, she didn't bother trying to stop.
Santana leaned into the kiss, her hands dancing pointlessly at her sides for a moment before they settled on Brittany's hips and it was then her thoughts were able to return. The first thing in her mind was that she was in the midst of a dream caused by excessive stress, the other was that if this was really happening then she needed to do something. So she did what she had been dreaming of for months and moved her hands to the silky, golden hair and pushed her tongue into Brittany's mouth and kissed her for all she was worth. It was the blonde's turn to be surprised now, but she didn't pull away and when a soft moan resonated in her throat, Santana thought her own legs might give out. They kissed until they needed air, Brittany being the first to pull away, her face flushed and her chest heaving for air. Santana looked at the breathless blonde, her own body screaming for her to do it again, that warmth was back and her skin was burning hot with desire, but she couldn't. Not before she understood what was happening.
"What was that for?" she supposed she should have said it better, but that was all that came to mind.
Santana didn't think it was possible for Brittany's face to go redder, but it did, "I don't really know. What was it for when you did it to me?"
That, she had to admit, was a fair question, "I did it because I feel things for you I know I'm not supposed to."
"You said that before. I don't think I understand fully."
"I want to kiss you, and touch you, and bed you, because you're sweet, kind and beautiful and you have taken over my every thought." It was honesty like she hadn't given another person in her life, she was relieved and terrified to get it all out of her head and into the air.
The redness in the taller woman's face reached the tips of her ears, "I see." They were silent for a moment while soft, brown eyes held shining, blue ones, "Santana, you've been in my mind a lot too, though I can't say I had ever thought about… those other things, but when you kissed me… it surprised me and confused me, but it also made me feel really happy."
"You didn't look happy."
She laughed nervously, "It really surprised me. But after, when you wouldn't even let me touch you it made me so sad and I thought that if something that felt so good was all you wanted for me to be able to be close to you once more, then I wanted to kiss you again as soon as possible."
"But it's dangerous and I shouldn't have," Santana replied thinking of Archibald and suddenly becoming uncomfortably aware of how exposed they were. "You being with me at all is dangerous, especially when you're supposed to be in bed."
The queen shrugged, "Artie knows I wander at night, and I don't think kissing you is any more dangerous than anything else I do. And even if it is, I don't care," she said, frowning a little as she came to her conclusion. "If you are willing to risk so much for me then how can I say no?"
"Easily," Santana shot back, "and you should." Turning, she collected her clothes from the river bed deciding to have someone else clean them after all, "There are enough dangers for us both here."
Brittany knelt next to her, "You are right and I know you are aware of the truth in what you said, but you still want to kiss me, right?"
And so much more.
When Santana didn't answer, Brittany placed a hand on hers and forced their eyes to meet. Under that gaze the brunette fidgeted, trying to steel herself to tell a bold lie. But it turned out there was no way with those blue eyes boring into hers.
"Yes."
"Then kiss me."
The offer was horribly tempting and, if allowed, Santana would have laid her out on the grass and done just that, but she was still aware of the open area.
"As much as I would love to, I don't think we should do anything here," she said pulling her eyes away from Brittany's and looking over the area.
The queen pouted a little, "You're right, but after the last one I really want to do it again."
Santana picked up her clothes and began to walk back towards the castle with Brittany right behind her, "Are you sure you want such a thing?" she asked, feeling a bit like she was manipulating the other woman.
She felt sure that Brittany was only offering because she wanted to maintain a close relationship, not out of any real, amorous feelings.
"Rest assured if I didn't want to I would tell you," Brittany said with a shy grin.
They walked back to their rooms in a calm silence and when Santana returned Brittany to her room she made sure to toss her clothes in her own room quickly. Immediately she felt nervous as she didn't know what to expect from their parting, but Brittany easily opened her door and crawled into bed.
Santana followed and automatically pulled her covers up, tucking her in as was routine, but before she could leave Brittany grabbed hold of her sleeve.
"May I have another now?" she asked, her cheeks tinged pink and her eyes nervous.
Unable to deny such a request a second time, Santana leaned down and kissed her slowly and with all the emotion that had been locked inside her. It was some time before they broke apart, and they were both just as breathless as they had been at the river. Santana still didn't know exactly what Brittany felt for her, but whatever it was that caused this to happen was something she would accept graciously.
"I should go," Santana said, knowing another kiss like that would lead her to do something quite inappropriate.
"Can I have another in the morning?" the queen asked sheepishly.
"You can have one every morning," she replied before leaving the royal bed chamber and returning to her own, thinking only of soft lips and how they bloomed into the widest smile at her reply.