Santana grumbled angrily as her foot squelched into something she could only hope was mud; once again she was the only person on foot during a mounted hunting party. Ahead of her were Matthew and Archibald, both men looking alertly for movement, and Brittany who was looking out over the wide field to the people gathered a short distance away. It was the king's decision to take his wife out with him on another hunting trip, because he needed the very audience he now had.
Word had gotten back to their illustrious ruler that the people of his kingdom, already riled by news of the poor negotiations with the other territories, began rumors about his manhood. As Archibald still had no heir and had made no recent attempts to make one, at least with his own wife, word began to spread that he was somehow less of a man. Santana thought he was less than human, but it had nothing to do with his negotiations nor his lack of an heir, she really didn't understand why the nobles and villagers alike put so much stock in a man's ability to have children. However, if it put the king in a poor mood it was alright with her, or at least it would have been if he hadn't decided that a spectacle of a hunting excursion would solidify his masculinity. The worst part was, given how his citizens were, it would probably work.
Matthew had seen to it that even more game than usual was running or flying around and so far Archibald had killed three foxes, a boar, and a fawn that Santana was pretty sure had just been too sick to flee.
Brittany merely stared off into the distance rather than watch the king trade animal's lives for stature. Santana's mood was foul, because she knew how much it hurt the other woman to watch animals be killed and this was especially upsetting since the king didn't even keep the animals he shot. Instead he left them where they fell and moved on to the next, ready to awe anyone who would watch, and by now it was quite a crowd. People from all walks of life gathered at the edge of the field to watch their king's skill with a bow, the nobles watched from palanquins and even though the commoners were ankle deep in mud, he had their attention nonetheless.
He played the perfect husband as they rode through the tall grass, he told long tales and even deferred on shooting creatures if the queen seemed too upset.
She had been quite upset about the fawn.
Archibald said his hand slipped.
They walked for a while longer, the king merely making wide sweeps that would bring them closer to his subjects so they could see his grandeur up close, before another boar came tearing out of the clearing.
With undeniable skill he notched an arrow and let it fly, hitting the creature dead in the eye, it fell almost instantly and a round of cheers came from those watching. Santana had to contain a sneer with all her might.
The noise caused the king's already nervous mount to buck slightly, but he held on. The animal was actually the solid stallion that the king sovereign had used; after his departure Archibald had felt it his right to ride him. Of course Brittany was left with the same mare; he had taken special care to explain how she wasn't good enough to ride his mother's mount even though she had never asked to. The change hadn't exactly been wise in Santana's opinion as his father's horse seemed to be about as fond of the man as she was. It was jittery and less than responsive, but once sharp spurs were kicked into him he'd move the same as any other.
With the boar dead, they pressed on, moving back to the other side of the field and Santana could only sigh as she stepped over the dead animal, its life and meat wasted. The further they traveled from the watching crowd the less polite Archibald was to those in his company, though Brittany seemed not to notice or didn't care if she had.
"You could at least pretend to be interested," the king growled as he looked over the area before him.
"In what?" she asked, having clearly been pulled from some deep internal thought.
"In my hunting, you stupid cow! What do you think we're doing out here?" he hissed at her.
"Oh, I am interested, do I not show it well?" she asked, her face genuine, but Santana had learned what true sincerity looked like from her while hidden behind a large tree and that was not it.
"Imbecile," he snorted before scanning the horizon again, "Matthew, are you sure there is enough game out today?"
"I am only sure that I released the requested amount, majesty, where they have gone to since I do not know. Maybe if we returned to fetch the hounds-"
"No! What's the point of this if I use animals to do my hunting for me?"
Matthew raised his eyebrows in a gesture that Santana had come to take as him trying to decide if the topic was really worth arguing about.
"Sire, some of the kingdom's greatest hunters use hounds."
"And I am twice the hunter they are, I don't need a beast to corner another for me, I am capable of doing this alone."
"Hmmm," Brittany hummed.
"What?" the king asked, looking insulted though she had yet to speak.
"Nothing," she said simply.
"Say whatever foolish thing you were going to say before I beat it out of you," he snapped.
"Sire…" Matthew said warningly, looking obviously at their audience.
Noticing them again, the king straightened himself in his saddle, "Who cares what you think anyway," he grumbled before riding ahead.
Santana had to grind her teeth together to keep from speaking out and Brittany seemed to notice as she sent a comforting smile to the smaller woman. Grudgingly, she relaxed a little and continued to follow their leader in wide, sweeping circles.
After a while even the commoners seemed to be bore of watching them go round and round, though a decent crowd remained, and not long after that even Archibald grew weary of his display.
"I don't think there is anything here," he said resignedly.
"Maybe next time we should enclose the area?" Matthew suggested.
"Possibl- Wait!" the king said, his voice dropping to an excited whisper as he notched another arrow.
Santana looked ahead to try and see what he saw, but the only thing she could detect was slight movement, a rustling of the tall grass that could have been an animal or, just as easily, the wind. Brittany looked too and just before her husband shot his arrow she reached out and yanked his arm.
The arrow sailed still hitting the targeted area, but missing the killing blow as the creature screamed. Santana had been wondering what had possessed Brittany to do something so reckless, because surely a fox wasn't worth making Archibald that angry, but she had her answer when she heard the scream. It was human - a child.
A small, dirty boy with a bleeding earlobe came running out of the grass holding one of the boars the king had already killed; the beast was relatively small, but still too large for the boy to handle without great effort. The king seemed undecided on who he was more furious with, the boy or his queen, but when those watching began to cheer for his wife, he focused on her.
"Are you trying to dishonor me!"
Brittany frowned, "It was a boy, Artie."
"An orphan boy! No one would have missed him," the prince grumbled, even though it seemed that for once even he saw how foolish his statement was.
"Majesty, I think it prudent to not shoot children on your excursion, killing the boy would be much more damaging to your image than the queen's interference," Matthew said, trying not to look disgusted at the king's statement. "Furthermore, he wasn't an orphan."
Santana followed Matthew's glance to see the boy clear the fence on the far side and run into the arms of a woman who was bawling and yelling at him for his recklessness.
Archibald watched with dark eyes, "I should throw them both in the dungeon for interrupting my hunt."
"Majesty…" Matthew repeated in that familiar warning tone of his.
"Yes, I know, image," he spat, kicking his heels deep into his mount's sides, causing it to buck slightly and begin to walk, "I need another kill to wipe this failure out of their minds."
Brittany sighed and turned her mare to follow, "Artie I think all the animals are really gone-"
His public embarrassment had made his short temper even shorter, "Open your stupid mouth again on this hunt and I will slap you right off your horse and trample you with my own!" he barked at her, his temper flaring hotter with every word.
And unbeknownst to him so did Santana's as she scooped up a small rock in her hands.
"Do not think that an audience gives you license to speak! You forget that I could lay you out right here and not a single man out there would think less of me for it!"
As he finished he reached for her, he may have been about to strike her or he may have only been feigning, Santana didn't wait to find out. She threw the rock that had been clenched in her hand as hard as she could, hoping to hit Archibald square in the head. However, having never been any sort of marksman, she missed and instead hit the flank of the stallion that was already nervous from the yelling.
The moment it was struck it bucked magnificently, sending an unaware Archibald tumbling into the sky and before he could reconnect with the ground the beast bucked again, planting both hooves in the king's chest and sending him sailing clean across the field. He landed in an unceremonious heap to the uproarious laughter of the remaining crowd.
Matthew flew after him and Brittany trailed at a more moderate pace with Santana right behind her. When they arrived Matthew had gotten Archibald upright, but it was clear he was having a hard time breathing, his face was twisted in pain as he sporadically gulped for air and Santana had to fight not to smirk in satisfaction.
"Something's broken," Matthew informed them, "Actually, I believe a lot of things are." He tried to lift the king to stand, but the man gave a garbled scream of pain. "Santana, go to the healer's tent and tell them the king needs treatment, now!"
"No'm'f'n," came from the king though only Matthew seemed to have understood.
"Sire, I don't think you should move-"
But to no one's surprise he didn't heed his council and stood on shaky legs, he glared at all of them in turn and for a moment Santana thought he might have seen what she had done, but instead his gaze fixed on the stallion now grazing peacefully in the distance.
"Have the beast killed," he wheezed, his words sounded like they were spoken by a winded infant, but this time everyone understood.
"I don't think your father would approve of his prized mount being executed in his absence," Matthew said quietly.
For the first time something Matthew said seemed to sink in and he took a shaky step towards Brittany, "Then have it whipped or something." Feebly he walked to the queen's horse and slumped against it, pulling weakly at her dress, "Get off."
She complied and he attempted to climb on, but found it impossible. Seeing his distress Matthew moved to help him on, it was a slow, difficult process that caused him to cry out several times and Santana relished the sound.
Then, though it was obviously causing him great pain, the wounded man planted his heels in the animal and rode off, Matthew bidding the queen stay put until he could return with her horse, and followed after Archibald.
Brittany watched them go and sighed, "You shouldn't have done that," she said, though her tone suggested laughter was behind her words.
Santana was taken aback, since the area was clearing and no one was calling for her head she had assumed no one had seen her, "He deserved it."
"Did he? I don't think so, he's worked so hard all day."
She frowned heavily until understanding hit her, Brittany was referring to the horse, "You're right, he didn't. I'll give him a carrot to make it up," she chuckled.
Taking her arm easily, the queen began to walk back towards the castle in the distance, "Come on, we should go."
"But Matthew said-"
"I don't think Artie is going to give him time to send anyone for me. We can just walk."
Santana would have objected, but the idea of walking arm in arm with her queen was too tempting to pass on. So together they walked through the field and into the woods where only the sounds of nature met their ears.
For the longest she was torn between wanting to enjoy their pleasant walk and the need to pull the blonde behind a tree and taste her lips again. She had almost found the perfect tree when she heard Brittany speak.
"You can't do that again, you know."
"Hurt the king sovereign's horse?"
"Hurt Artie."
Santana's face went into an immediate glower, "Is it offensive to you?"
"It's scary, because if he saw that it was you he would have killed you," she said quietly, "Your life isn't worth that."
"Yours is," Santana replied softly.
"He won't kill me, my life is what keeps the land his father fights on," she said with a shrug.
"Maybe he won't strike with that intent but-"
"Santana, please, for me, don't interfere again," Brittany said and she found it would have been easier to take if the queen were merely disregarding her help, instead the other woman wanted to keep her safe and it hurt. It hurt to watch someone she loved so carry so much and refuse even the slightest aid lest her rescuers be punished.
With a sad sigh she turned away from pleading, blue eyes, "I won't."
"Thank you," Brittany replied brightly, planting a kiss on Santana's neck that cheered her considerably.
Forced to smile again, she returned the kiss before saying, "You really are a knight."
She nodded, "My first duty is to make sure you're as safe and happy as can be managed."
"I thought it was to make sure you were happy," Santana laughed.
"As it so happens it's the same thing."
Upon their return they found the castle to be in a complete uproar over the king's injuries, most of the castle going over rumors of how it happened while others scrambled to collect items the king requested for his comfort.
Brittany watched the entire thing in amusement before yawning, "I want to retire early."
Santana nodded, feeling a sense of dread. If the queen wanted to sleep that meant it was time for her bath and that had become something of an ordeal as of late. She still didn't want to push the queen too far in too short a time, but watching the woman bathe was a sure way to make her want to stop fretting over the issue.
Reluctantly, she informed a few of the scurrying servants to ready the queen's bath and together they made their way to the room Santana now dreaded more than anything other than Karofsky's shack.
When the water was drawn and Brittany had been freed of her clothing, Santana sat on the stool provided, facing the far wall, hoping that maybe this time Brittany would forget her back needed washing. Of course she didn't and Santana had to, once again, figure out how to look without looking. There was no way of course, but she attempted it every time and marveled at herself. It seemed that even though she had seen the queen in less than nothing countless times, ever since their lips touched it became infinitely harder not to become completely wanton when she caught a glimpse of her nude form. Something that meant she spent the entirety of the bath red in the face with her mind going freely where it ought not.
"You don't have to be so fearful of looking at me," Brittany said airily.
"I'm not fearful, I just…"
"Just?"
"Don't need to think the way I do when I look at you in that state of undress," Santana replied, her voice barely above a whisper
A curious look crossed Brittany's features, "What is it that you think of?"
Santana knew her face was flushed with red, because she could feel the heat pouring off it, "Uh- I…" she trailed off, not knowing how to voice everything that was filling her head at the moment.
"Tell me," she said, her blue eyes earnest and curious.
"I think of… us together… a great deal…" even that small, vague confession made her face twice as hot.
"I think I'm not understanding your meaning again, because I think of it too, and we are together most times-"
"Together like in an intimate way, like a man and woman would be."
Brittany considered her words and slowly her brow furrowed in thought, "I didn't know that was possible. Though I can confess to thinking of touching you everywhere I can," she said with a small smile, "It seems a little unfair that you always see me in such a state, but I have never seen you."
Santana squirmed in her seat, she wasn't sure which conversation made her more uncomfortable, "It is possible," she replied, opting to stick to the previous narrative as the idea of showing her scar covered form unnerved her a bit, "for women to be with each other that way."
Swirling the water slightly, Brittany looked up at her through long lashes, "That's something you enjoy?"
Taken by surprise Santana blinked, "Um, I'm pretty sure I would. In all honesty, I have never tried with someone of my sex," she said, suddenly wildly unsure of herself.
"Do you think I would as well?" the queen asked.
"I hope so," Santana said giving a nervous laugh; honestly, she had no idea. She was worse than a novice in the art of pleasuring women, because the most instruction she'd had on it was what she glimpsed through the dark of a tent one night.
"Will you show me?" Brittany asked, her voice shy but her eyes fixed unwaveringly on Santana.
"N-now?" she stuttered, feeling a cold sweat break out. She knew she wanted to, or to at least try, but she also knew that with her heart pounding and her hands shaking she wasn't going to please anyone.
"If you'd like," the blonde said quietly.
"Not here," she croaked, with a wince she cleared her throat and tried again, "Not now."
Brittany searched her eyes, and whatever she saw there made her relent, "Alright."
Santana helped her queen from the tub to dry off and brought her to bed though it was earlier than usual. Her head was full of thoughts of when would be the right time to move forward with Brittany when she almost crashed into the woman. Confused, she looked ahead to see Matthew standing in front of the queen's door looking rather tired.
"My apologies for intercepting you this way, but I must ask you to come with me, highness," he said, bowing deeply.
Santana frowned, "Why?"
The question made Matthew give her a warning look, but Brittany waved it away, "Why?" she asked herself.
"The king would like an audience."
For a quick moment Santana feared he may have discovered that she had indeed thrown the rock, but then realized if that were the case he would hardly be inclined to discuss the issue with Brittany. But knowing him he couldn't possibly want to simply talk, and he had the best healers in the land already looking after his injuries. Thought she was sure his wounds would keep him from hitting his wife… or anything else.
She felt a brief comfort in recalling the man couldn't even breathe comfortably, when a sudden, icy fear blossomed in her stomach that for some reason Archibald had chosen this as the night to attempt to make an heir.
It was an irrational thought, at least she was partially sure it was, and she kept running his tumble over and over in her mind to prove that he would have to be too wounded to do anything of the sort.
Brittany turned to her and gave a reassuring smile, "If I don't return before dark, sleep without me, I will tuck myself in."
Santana watched her leave with Matthew, her feet stuck to the floor, she feared for Brittany and her own sanity. How could she possibly sleep with her love trapped somewhere with one of the most wicked men she had ever met?
Not knowing what to do with herself she paced for a moment before she took off for the armory, somehow believing that if there was one person that could help her figure out what to do it would be Puck. Even as she scrambled through the winding hallways she remembered Brittany telling her to do nothing, but how could she be expected to abide by that? It was with great relief that she found Puck putting away his tools for the night alone in a place that smelled of metal, stone and sweat.
"Puck, I need your help!" she exclaimed, running towards him.
He seemed startled by her sudden arrival, but quickly got over it while pulling off his shirt, "Trip to the caravan didn't help ya long, did it?" he asked.
Seeing his misunderstanding she rushed to him and pulled his shirt back down, "No! Not that," she hissed, looking to see if they were being overheard, but they were quite alone.
"Oh, good… for you I mean, I didn't mind be'n used," he chuckled.
"Brittany's alone with the king right now."
He only frowned at her, "And?"
"And he might be up there hurting her or… or worse," she said, trying not to picture worse in her head.
Puck nodded and thought hard for a moment, "Ah! I know just the thing to help with that," he said enthusiastically.
He walked off brusquely and Santana followed, wondering where he was taking her. When they moved away from the castle her curiosity grew and when they approached the kitchens she began to wonder if maybe they were seeking Michael out. Instead of going all the way inside, Puck led her down a narrow stairwell at the back that opened into a small, poorly lit room that reeked of men and ale with an undertone of vomit.
Confused, she looked to him, but Puck was already heading to the far side where there was a table full of mugs. The toned man scooped up an armful and jerked his head in a motion meant to beckon her. She approached, trying to see the sense in what he was doing and wondering why she had never known of this place before… whatever it was.
"Sit," he offered, showing her a worn stool by a clear table.
Santana sat gingerly, still watching him as he deposited the mugs on the table and split them up between them. Frowning, the woman looked around to find, to her utter surprise, that they were not at all alone; to her right, hunched in a dark corner and looking for all the world like a boulder, sat Beiste.
The large woman had a tankard in her massive hand and when her eyes met Santana's she lifted it in greeting. Santana waved back weakly before turning to Puck.
"How is any of this supposed to help me?"
He pushed one of the mugs to her hands, "Drink."
She stared at the liquid in the container and sniffed at it, the smell was quite foul even for strong drink, "What is this?"
"All the stuff the soldiers n' the royals don't drink after meals. We keep it all, but don't got time to sort it out so it's all mixed together. Mead, ale, wine and any other strong drink we k'n find."
"Unless you are telling me to throw this at that man I fail to see what this is supposed to do."
Puck took a hearty swig before he answered, his face contorting at the taste, "Drink it and you'll forget your woes."
Pushing the mug aside she stood abruptly, "I don't want to get drunk, I want to keep the queen from being beaten!" she whispered fiercely at him.
He shot her a sad smile, "Lots of us been wanting that for a long time."
"I'm right widyou," grumbled Beiste from her seat, her wording made it clear the tankard she held wasn't her first.
"Listen love, we all know it's a cruel hand she's been given, but there really ain't nothing you c'n do."
"But- he's…" she pleaded, wishing he'd understand.
"Drink," he advised again.
Santana flopped back down and took a deep gulp of the foul smelling liquid to find it really did help as it burned everything it touched, making her wheeze and cough rather than think.
"Heard the king tooka spill today," Beiste said with a chuckle before taking another swig.
Santana could only nod through coughs and thick tears from the burn.
"Wish I'd seen that," Puck said wistfully.
The large woman nodded, "Same, deserves to know what izlike."
"Don't fret, I'm sure he ain't in a hittin' mood, probably up there makin' another attempt at putting a baby in her so the whole kingdom'll stop laughin' at him."
The icy feeling turned to a combination of blinding fury and overwhelming fear, "Not with the wounds he has," she said in a sure voice, because she needed to believe herself.
"M'sure the healers fixed him right up," Puck said trying to be cheerful about it as if it was making her feel any better, then to twist the knife he turned to Beiste, "Right?"
The woman rolled her massive shoulders in a half shrug, "Think so, 'pends on how bad it was. Dun let women work on him so I g'no idea. It would be best if he was still, wouldn'ta been well enough fer slappin' one way or tha other," she added seeing the distress in Santana's face.
When she silently looked into her mug Puck sighed, lowering his voice upon seeing another servant enter, "If you're with her it's just somethin' you're gonna hafta learn to take."
Santana felt anger and then great despair, because his words were true in many ways.
If she were to truly give herself over to Brittany this was something that would be a reality, she could have the queen in every way, but it wouldn't keep the king from taking what he wanted.
She downed the rest of the mug, because she needed that burn to fill her, she needed her whole body to feel it, because she already knew there was no other course for her. She loved Brittany and would continue to, Archibald be damned.
When Santana returned to her room later she found Brittany still hadn't and she was distantly worried, but not too much. The strong drink had muddled her head enough for her to wish to hold off her worries on the matter for another day. As quietly as could be managed she stumbled into her bed and fell into an immediate and deep sleep.
That night she dreamt of Elisa, the woman had her tied to that tree and was beating her endlessly while Sam circled them on the king sovereign's horse, calling to her, trying to get closer, but never managing it. She screamed in her dream, the pain seeming real and fresh, all of the fears she'd ever had, all of the pains reached her at once and the intensity of it startled her awake.
With a thud she fell from her bed and scrambled to her feet, immediately regretting the action as she stood and felt her head swim. Grabbing it, she swayed on her feet and tried to block the ringing in her ears by covering them, but the sound was inside her.
Sitting down, she composed herself cursing Puck before remembering the reason for such copious drinking and jumping up again. It made her world waver again, but she ignored it as she rushed from her room and into the queen's to thankfully find her tucked in her bed. Quickly, she went to her side and carefully brushed blonde hair from her face, checking for any sign that she had been hurt. She found none on the smooth cheek so kissed it softly to wake her.
Blue eyes fluttered open and focused on her after a moment, "Morning," she mumbled before yawning.
Santana stepped back not knowing, despite everything, if it was her place to ask what happened the night before. She observed Brittany standing easily enough and as she waited patiently for Santana to pick a dress for her, she decided it wasn't to be discussed. The morning passed with her fulfilling her duties and the queen playing the role of the caring wife when her husband came limping, a tad dramatically in Santana's opinion, down the hall.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather rest?" Brittany asked in a caring voice that lacked any real underlying concern.
He shook his head, his usually immaculate hair falling in his face, "I need to show my subjects that it wasn't that bad."
"But it was," she said plainly.
"And I don't want them to know that!" he snapped, immediately wincing as the effort clearly caused him pain.
That pleased Santana and reassured her that he hadn't been bedding his queen during the night… though it was possible he had and the strain had made him this way.
Shaking her head she fell in step behind Brittany and next to Tina who looked like someone had given her a great gift.
The morning meal passed in the usual silence and when it was over Santana was prepared to lead Brittany out to the gardens, but to her complete surprise the blonde crossed the dining hall to Archibald's side of the table. Santana abruptly followed wondering what the queen was planning.
She stopped just short of his chair, watching Tina feed him as apparently it hurt for him to lift his arms.
Seeing her approach he glared at her and grunted as a signal for Tina wait, "What?" he asked gruffly.
"I was about to go for a ride and was wondering if you would join me?"
Santana, Archibald and Tina seemed taken aback by the request.
"Woman are you that stupid? Do you see the pain I'm in?"
"I do, but I thought it might go some ways in proving you aren't hurt," she said innocently.
"This is why women don't rule," he grumbled, "Go and have your ride alone."
"As you wish," she said, giving him a polite curtsey and exiting.
Santana thought for a moment they might actually return to their usual routine, but Brittany requested the stables and the smaller woman obliged.
The stable hands were a bit alarmed to see her, fearing they had failed to prepare for an event, but Santana was able to calm them and soon Brittany's mount was saddled and ready. Quietly she helped her onto her horse and once she was seated Santana looked up, hoping her queen could feel her questioning gaze; and to her amazement she could.
"He would have been enraged if I had gone off without asking him to join even though we both know he couldn't," she said, looking down at Santana.
She nodded, already able to picture him throwing a fit over being left behind and complaining how it made him look weak. His level of pettiness irritated her, but she was glad the queen had foreseen his mood.
Brittany started off and Santana followed silently as the queen took the royal's trail that led into the woods. The mare's pace was slow to allow Santana to follow comfortably behind and in that lull before the woods were reached her curiosity overwhelmed her.
"What did he want?" she asked, so quietly the sound almost didn't make it over the soft clop of hooves.
A smirk appeared on her face, "Nothing really. He thought he might die in the night so he was telling me what to tell his father about the rebellion. It was all lies and made him a well-rounded hero and Kurt an unreasonable, vile, lewd man."
Relief flooded Santana at that, but she had to be sure, "He… he didn't try to hurt you… or anything did he?" she asked looking up, daring to hope.
"No," she said, but there was something about her tone that the smaller woman didn't like.
But she didn't get to comment on it, because shortly after they entered the woods Brittany extended her hand to Santana who only looked at it questioningly.
"M'lady?"
"We're alone, so call me Brittany, and don't walk while I ride, it makes me feel foolish."
Santana continued to eye the offered hand, "I don't know how to ride."
"I'll do everything, just give me your hand."
Reluctantly, Santana allowed Brittany to hoist her up into the saddle and, once seated and pressed snuggly against Brittany's front, she felt that it wasn't such a bad idea. At least until the creature started moving. The feeling was unnerving and the true height of a horse was never impressed upon her so much as when she looked to the ground from its back. She was afraid of falling and disliking the way her thighs started to burn, trying to keep the animal squarely under her, but when Brittany wrapped a steadying arm around her she relaxed. For the first time she realized the beast wasn't galloping, it was merely a slow trot that allowed her to see all the trees and animals around her. She could see the sun peeking through the branches at them and smell the salty air from the ocean, she could hear birds and bugs singing their praise to the morning, making her calm even more and ending the dull throb that had been in her head since she had woken.
They traveled for some time and the hypnotic sound of falling hooves started to rock the brunette into a drowsy state.
"This is nice," Santana said contentedly, allowing herself to fall even further into Brittany's arms.
Though the other woman didn't seem concerned with letting her relax, because she placed a gentle kiss on Santana's neck that made the vile drink from the previous night seem like a handful of ice water when compared to how it made her whole body blaze.
"It is," Brittany agreed before giving her another feather light kiss.
Santana began to writhe as the blonde's hand moved from its supportive position and lifted her shirt, allowing her fingers to dance lightly over hot skin. An involuntary moan escaped the smaller woman and suddenly the saddle was much too small and constricting. Wriggling, she was able to disentangle herself from the queen and slip unceremoniously to the ground.
The queen looked down at her, worry in her eyes, "Did you not like that?"
Santana couldn't help the smirk on her lips, "The saddle doesn't offer me the chance to kiss you back."
With a laugh, Brittany joined her on the ground and Santana assisted before tying her mare to a nearby tree. When she turned, she planned to return the sweet kisses she had been given, but instead the taller woman pulled her further into the trees. Once they were out of sight of the road the queen saw fit to stop and allow their lips to meet again, though she wasn't prepared for the fever with which Santana did so.
She pushed Brittany back against the nearest tree and deepened their kiss for all she was worth, she touched the other woman with more boldness than she'd ever had before that moment, cupping her breasts and kneading them gently.
The sounds that erupted from her were more than enough to make Santana feel that she was ready for more. She needed more of those sounds, louder and all around her, nervous and excited she lifted Brittany's dress, only to remember how much of it there actually was. With a growl of frustration she had to break their kiss to deal with the garment and then the underclothes beneath that. Brittany waited with an amused smile at Santana's frustrations, but that expression flew away the second tanned fingers found their way between her legs.
Suddenly everything was much more intense, and Brittany held her close as if letting would mean to fall endlessly. For her part, Santana didn't know what she was doing, but she knew how to pleasure herself and felt she wouldn't be remiss in starting there. So she moved her fingers slowly around the hardened nub she felt and pressed it in a gentle rhythm, loving the sweet song that fell from Brittany's lips as she did so. The sound of her gasps and pining mewls managed to make Santana feel more aroused than she could ever remember being. And the sound that left when she slid her fingers inside the other woman would stay with her always. She knew immediately that if ever there were a time she needed to give herself release that sound would have her there in no time.
"S-Santana…" Brittany panted, her face a mix of emotions and needs that her lover couldn't decipher, she could tell there was something more she was trying to say, but was unwilling to relent long enough to hear it.
Instead she pumped her fingers faster, pausing only to move them against the velvety, soft flesh encasing them. The blonde's breathing quickened and Santana kissed her deeply, hoping to convey her feeling more accurately since words had failed her.
But Brittany broke the kiss, clearly worried by something, "Santana," she moaned again and again it seemed that saying her name was supposed to explain the problem, but she didn't get it.
"Yes?" she asked, her own breath now coming in short pants.
"I don't- I think I'm-" she tried, but was cut off by a moan deep within.
Understanding, Santana nuzzled her neck placing kisses along it from top to bottom, "I know, it's okay," she said softly and with those words the woman in her arms came apart, her body arching against the tree as Santana discretely moved her other hand to let her reach the same plateau of pleasure.
It didn't surprise Santana in the least that with a few quick strokes she easily reached that goal, collapsing forward against Brittany whose whole body was still trembling. Slowly, she sank to the ground and Santana followed, content to lay slumped in her lap until the end of time.
After a while, when their breathing was somewhat normal again Brittany spoke.
"You said that would be like coupling with a man, but it was very different."
Santana felt a spike of fear break her calm, "Did you not like it?" she asked sitting up.
"I did," she laughed, "Very much so, that's why it's different. I've never…" she paused and looked fixedly at her hands, "That's never happened to me before."
Santana frowned, "What hasn't?"
More color flooded Brittany's already flush cheeks, "I've never lost control of myself like that."
Still confused she pointed to herself, "You mean kissing me? Or-"
"No, I mean… at the end where…" she trailed off again, clearly feeling a bit of shame.
Then she understood and her eyes widened, "Oh, you've never peaked before."
"Peeked at what?"
"No, that's just what some call it when you reach the height of pleasure with sex. I didn't know about it either until after I became a woman."
Brittany's face scrunched up a bit, "Is this amount of… moisture normal as well?"
Santana leaned closer kissing her slowly and deeply before answering, "When you want sex it is."
"I understand then, because up until now it has always hurt and I didn't like it at all."
A frown creased Santana's brow, because she knew that pain, and she also never wanted it for Brittany ever again, but she was bracing herself against the hard truth. That it would happen again.
Saddened by the thought she pushed some of Brittany's hair out of her face and kissed her slowly again.
When they parted Brittany's eyes were deep pools of black with a rim of blue and Santana felt stirrings within her at the sight, wanting to disrobe the other woman and do the things she had seen in the caravan.
Apparently the thought was on Brittany's mind as well, "Want to go again?" she asked, still breathless from their kiss.
Glancing up at the sun's position, Santana reluctantly shook her head, "Court will be in session soon, we should leave now unless you plan to go as you are."
Brittany observed the state of her clothes and felt the tangles in her hair and sighed, "I suppose you're right."
They stood and returned to Brittany's mare where Santana assisted the queen onto her mount; however, after everything she was still surprised when Brittany offered her hand. This time she did not argue and simply allowed herself onto the horse, knowing she would be allowed to dismount before they came within view of the castle.
On the return trip Santana once again lay happily in Brittany's arms and the taller woman embraced her the same as before, but somehow it meant more. Especially after Brittany kissed her gently behind the ear and whispered, "I love you," an emotion that was expressed with all the honesty Santana found daunting to give.
"And I love you," she replied easily, as if it were common knowledge that they were exchanging.
On the inside, however, the brunette was rejoicing, because for all that Archibald may have had of her lover, Santana had her heart.
A/N: Thanks to chombiric for a super fast turn around on the betaing process :)
And thanks to everyone who has reviewed, pm'ed, faved, and alerted you have no idea how far it goes to get me motivated to write rather than nap XP