From the moment they first kissed Santana knew her desire for Brittany would only grow, and after their morning tryst in the woods she knew it would become even more urgent. What she hadn't expected was for the same to be true for Brittany.

There was hardly a moment where they were alone and their lips weren't attached in greedy kisses, hands grasping each other tightly, exploring all the places they had never dared. Part of the urgency, aside from the constantly present danger of being caught, was that in the four days since the woods they hadn't had the time to go any further. Santana did make it a habit to pleasure her queen during her bath since attempting any sort of cordiality during that event seemed ridiculous to both of them. But even with that forward move she was indeed the very reason nothing more had occurred.

Of course Santana was aware that she could quite easily slip into the tub with Brittany and they could spend as much time as they wished together, however, she wasn't exactly confident in attempting the things she had seen and felt trying either technique in a tub was courting disaster. Since Archibald's injuries meant he never traveled a step farther than he absolutely had to, there was very little risk of him unexpectedly entering Brittany's bedchambers and, even so, on any average day there was almost no risk of that. However, Santana still put her queen to bed with kisses that had them both yearning for more before she returned to her own room. Because it felt too familiar, and there were still scars - old, deep scars - that reminded her that being caught was to court death.

Elisa had taught her well and it wasn't a lesson Santana was willing to forget so easily.

Santana woke to a morning that started like any other; she stood, stretched and yawned before changing into the well-worn clothes that marked her as a slave to the royals. A broken comb was all she was allowed in the way of making herself up, so she combed through her hair and decided to tie it into a ponytail on a whim. With no mirror to examine the result, she merely rubbed her palms over her silky hair to try and replace any strands that may have gone astray and stepped out into the royal's hall. Quickly, she dashed into the servant's halls to make her way to her waiting meal and ate, speaking with each of her friends in turn as she did, before leaving to return to her queen.

Indeed the morning was like any other, which was why it shocked her so badly to see Karofsky standing by her door when she returned. Their eyes met and he merely glowered while her face showed blatant surprise.

After she felt assured that he wasn't there to drag her off to be whipped, she was able to then realize he wasn't standing outside her door. He was standing outside Brittany's.

And with a familiar, ice cold splash of fear she realized that meant Archibald was nearby.

Her eyes went to the door and her ears perked up trying to listen for sounds of distress, but heard nothing apart from Karofsky's deep breaths.

Worried, she looked to him, "Has he been in long?"

The large man's eyes narrowed, "Yes, they are to be left be until he leaves."

Looking at the door again, she felt the beginnings of panic taking over and she was lost deep in thought of all the things that could be happening behind the door when he spoke again.

"You talked to Kurt," he said.

Santana needed a moment to think on his words before responding. "What?" she said, because that hadn't made any sense.

"You talked to Kurt."

"Yes," she replied frowning, wondering where he was going with his statement.

"He talked of me?"

"Uh-" she said, remembering exactly what Kurt said.

The man's eyes narrowed into slits as it was clear her response gave him his answer, "You tell no one," he growled, those amber eyes flashing dangerously.

It hadn't occurred to her to even try, not out of any respect for Karofsky, but out of deference to Kurt, "I haven't and I won't."

He nodded tersely and returned to staring back out at the hall, Santana immediately faced the ornate door and returned to trying to figure out why the king was there, without Matthew, so early in the morning.

An eternity seemed to pass before she heard any sort of sound, and then suddenly the door swung open and Archibald limped out looking haggard. Santana watched him warily as he passed, the king ignored her and his own guard before he turned and began to walk back in the direction of his own rooms.

The moment Karofsky stopped blocking her way Santana flew into the room, terrified of what she would find. Upon entering she felt a flash of fear when she couldn't see Brittany anywhere, but then the door closed and she realized the queen had been the one who opened it in the first place.

She didn't know what to say, Brittany's face was neutral and there were no bruises, but her face didn't explode into that natural smile she had whenever their eyes met.

"What happened?" Santana asked, unable to take another moment of uncertainty.

Her eyes fell to the floor, but even so she could see the tears forming there, "I'm sorry, Santana."

And that was it, one of her worst fears confirmed. He had come to claim her as was his right, as king and her husband Brittany couldn't have refused him, but it didn't stop the knowledge of what he had done from cutting deep.

It must have shown on her face, the despair and the hurt, because Brittany began to cry in earnest, "Please forgive me."

Santana opened her mouth to reply, to try and say words of understanding, because she did truly understand, but words failed her. Everything was numb and distant and confusing. She had always known things would be this way, but somehow knowing it could happen and knowing when it actually did happen were different things.

"Last time, when he spoke to me, the healers told him that he was bleeding inside his chest and that it was possible he could die in the night, so he became fearful of dying without an heir," Brittany explained quickly, tears still pouring down her face, "he is still having problems so he wanted to try, even if it hurt him a great deal."

Santana felt like her heart had been ripped out, "This is my fault," she muttered quietly, "I caused this."

"No," Brittany said quickly, coming to her side, "It would have happened anyway, he's tried to get me with child since we were married, he frequents my rooms often, but usually leaves long before sunrise. His wounds prevented him from leaving in a timely manner."

"He's been in here before?" Santana asked and immediately wished she hadn't; not only would the answer inevitably be yes, but the question only served to push the idea that she felt Brittany was somehow at fault for Archibald coming into her room.

"Not since we've…" she said and stopped, her eyes dropping before more tears fell, "Santana, it won't be the last time."

"I know," she replied, her throat constricting.

"I'd understand if you don't want to be with me anymore." Brittany's words were shaky and said as one who didn't want to make the offer they knew they had to.

Hearing those words snapped Santana out of her daze and she was finally able to move, she went right up to Brittany and kissed her as passionately as she could. She could smell Archibald on her and it made her want to cry, but nothing could make her stop loving the woman before her.

Brittany returned the kiss, clearly relieved that Santana was even willing to give her one, and for a while they held each other until the smaller woman could find her voice.

"I don't blame you. Please don't think that," she said, brushing blonde hair back and looking into large, teary, sorrowful eyes, "And I always want to be with you."

Before another word could be exchanged between them there was a loud knock on the door that made them both jump. It was time for the other servants to enter and help the queen ready herself for the day, even though they both wanted more time together.

However, they both knew what had to be done, so after one final, lingering kiss Brittany beckoned them to enter.

The morning seemed to drag as Santana was forced to stand in the dining hall with a man she wanted to maul very badly. She couldn't help but steal glances at him as he sat back feebly in his chair, Tina lifting mouthfuls of food up to him, looking like an oversized infant.

When they reached the gardens there was little they had to say to each other, Santana merely left to sit and stare at the small pond and Brittany followed to sit quietly by her side. She had decided not to cry over this, to keep her feelings on the matter to herself, because like everything involving the queen they were too big and to think on them hurt too much.

"I love you," Brittany said softly as she moved closer so they were pressed together.

Santana nodded her understanding and continued to be silent, the other woman lay her head on her shoulder and they sat that way, unmoving in the morning sun. After some time Brittany gathered the courage to take her hand, Santana returned the gesture easily and somehow with that the tension in the air eased.

With gentle caresses they said everything they couldn't seem to find the words for. Santana could practically feel Brittany's desire for more, to hold her closer, to kiss her, but the blonde seemed to understand they were currently being as intimate as she could stand to be. The morning was spent in that silence and so was the day, no words passed between them, yet much was said.

Night fell and after an uneventful bath Santana tucked her into bed, the queen watching her trough worried eyes as she did. And though it had been her intent to let the day pass in silence, she couldn't help but offer a few words to the woman who seemed suddenly unsure of the meaning behind her silence.

"I haven't stopped loving you. I'm sure I couldn't even if I wanted."

"Do you want to?" she asked, her eyes holding Santana's steadily.

"No," and it was oddly true, she honestly preferred having the love of someone she felt so strongly for, even with all the pain came with it.

"I don't want you to either," Brittany's eyes fell to the bed and suddenly her hands twisted nervously, "You have my heart, all of it."

A smile reached Santana's lips for the first time that day, "And you have all of mine."

Those words seemed to put a light in her eyes as she lay back in her bed, "Tell me you love me," she said like a child requesting a bedtime tale.

"I love you," Santana replied, feeling a little surprised at how easily she was able to say those words, given that her entire life had been spent trying not to feel such an emotion, much less admit to it.

Suddenly the queen looked far less bold as she made her next request, "Kiss me," and even though it was a request, her trepidation made it come out sounding almost like a question.

Santana realized that they hadn't done so since the morning. Not willing to let that continue, she leaned forward and kissed Brittany, only realizing how much she missed it when their lips touched.

It was long and lingering, as their goodnight kisses tended to be, but like every other touch they shared that day it said something; it reassured and comforted. And when they broke apart she knew they would be alright, that Archibald's claim to her bed wouldn't end them or make Santana forget her feelings.

But as she returned to her room she felt old scars burn, because she hadn't forgotten her lesson either. Santana could still feel those lashes under all the others, every single one; she felt them warning her to stop before she found herself upon the very execution block she had stood on her first day at the castle.

The next day found them back to their old routine, the morning spent behind the large tree in the garden, kissing passionately in the sunlight, both seeming eager to make up for a lost day. They kissed until Santana wasn't sure that there had ever been anything else in the world other than Brittany, so it was intensely confusing when it suddenly stopped.

Opening her eyes she looked up, first to find the sun ready to hit her eyes, its glare uninhibited since the cold had stolen the tree's leaves. The next thing she noticed was Brittany sitting up and straightening her clothing a bit before smiling down at her.

Santana smiled back lopsidedly, still not completely comprehending what was going on and then she heard footsteps. Suddenly she was aware of what was happening, but it was too late to react, half a heartbeat later Matthew was standing before them.

Her heart pounded fiercely and her scars tingled as the fear of being caught flared through her. However, it was quickly apparent that, despite the fact that she was flat on her back looking rather flabbergasted, the man was completely unaware of what had just been happening.

"Highness, the king requests an audience," he said with a deep bow.

Brittany's nose scrunched up as she listened to the request, "Isn't he with the council now?"

Matthew got the familiar look of someone who was trying to simplify a complicated story, "They adjourned early, some time ago actually."

"He threw a child's fit about something," she said with a sigh.

The man's eyes glinted slightly as a sort of silent affirmation, "They had a disagreement of some sort."

"What does he want?"

Matthew's eyes became apologetic, "I have been requested to only tell you that you are needed."

She nodded and stood, but not before taking Santana's hand and giving it a squeeze. When she had begun to walk towards the castle Matthew turned to her suddenly, making her heart jump again.

"After the king meets with her it will be time for them to go to court, I will assist her there, so you may do as you like from here," he said before marching off after the queen.

Santana sat up and breathed deeply, out of fear of what had just transpired and of whatever it was Archibald wanted. She had never known the man to call for his wife so often, however, he had crossed paths with her rather frequently before. Though the encounters had been short he did see her every now and again outside of meals and occasionally carried out a brief, and usually mean spirited, conversation. This could be the same thing, his injuries preventing him from going to her so he sent for her to come to him.

Or it could be his injuries reminding him of his mortality and need to bring another of his bloodline into the world.

The thought made her grit her teeth painfully and suddenly she couldn't stand to be sitting any longer. Angrily, she stood, folding the blanket and returning it to its proper place before making her way to the cliffs, wishing more and more with every step that the servant's hidden tavern was open before nightfall.

She arrived at the clearing in a rage that was lessened by surprise at the fact that she wasn't the only one there; sitting at the cliff's edge sat Michael and next to him Puck.

It wasn't particularly startling to find Michael there as she knew he came to this place often, it was a little surprising to see Puck, but not by a lot. The thing that threw her was that she knew both men were busy during this time of day.

Cautiously she approached, worried that she may be interrupting some sort of serious moment when Puck turned and smiled at her.

"You should work on your stealth, your steps are light but your breathin's heavy," he said merrily, "Come, join us."

Relaxing slightly, she moved to sit next to Michael, allowing her legs to dangle off the edge of the rocks and feeling a slight thrill of danger as she did so.

"Why are you two here?"

"Castle's gone crazy, didn't you hear?" Puck asked, looking astounded by her ignorance.

She didn't recall seeing anything out of the ordinary on her way, so she shrugged, "I hadn't noticed."

"Somethin' wild happened at court."

Michael decided to save her from having to ask, "Apparently the king is set on war. So far the council will not allow him to declare it on his allies unless he is struck first. However, we all know it will happen one way or the other."

"Soldiers got wind of it, some tried leavin', plenty'r stayin', but talk of rebellin's going on 'cause the soldiers didn't join ta have to kill their own families."

Santana's brow creased, "What do you mean some tried leaving?"

"Azimio cut them down with that sword of his," Michael said lightly, his eyes distant, a look that told Santana that his knowledge of that may have been first hand.

"It'll quieten down in time," Puck said knowingly, "He'll whip the resistance out o' the rest of them that's still thinkin' 'bout deserting. I hear his whip makes Karofsky's seem meek, beat a girl a few days ago for dropping a spoon or something like, and he whipped her dead for it. Was her first beatin' on her first day."

Santana squirmed as her own back began to prickle in warning, "How did the soldiers even find out? This happened only moments ago," she said, steering the conversation away from Azimio and his cruelty.

"Word travels fast here," Michael said softly.

"Council ain't supposed t' have servants there, but I know a woman who, er, sneaks in on occasion ta hide under her master's robes if ya catch my meanin'."

"I do," Santana said tersely, her disgust at the castle and all the lords in it flaring.

"Well, she heard, n' told me and I mighta said something to the smith and then some soldiers came ta get fitted…" he trailed off, letting the tale weave itself.

"So they will fight," she said nodding, "What does this mean for us."

"Nothing," Michael said looking out over the sea, "Nothing at all unless the castle falls."

"And then?"

"Possible freedom for the slaves and death for the royals," he said with a shrug.

Santana felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest, "Death? For the queen as well?"

"Most likely," he said sadly, "Though I am told Lord Schuester is a kind, benevolent man though that kindness need not extend to his enemies."

"But she's not his enemy!" Santana exclaimed, as if to convince Michael was to convince the lord.

"No, but she is key to the king sovereign's campaign and many will see that as reason enough. I do not know him, but I understand him to be a man of the people and if the people call for it, she will be killed."

She had come to the cliffs to try and forget the pains of imagining Archibald forcing himself on the woman she loved. Thinking of an unknown man riding in and executing her for being in a position she had resented all her life did just that. Now she felt sick, dizzy and in danger of falling from the cliff's edge.

"It ain't likely that'll happen though," Puck chimed in, "The castle has alotta defenses n' even a fool like Archibald c'n manage em'. Anyone approaching has ta cross th' plains, and the second they do we'll see 'em comin' over the ridge."

Santana thought back to her first day, she had indeed ridden up a steep hill that exposed her fully to anyone watching. She had seen the castle as clearly as the castle saw her; indeed for a stronghold with sea and stone guarding its rear and open land exposing any attack well in advance, any incoming army would have a hard time getting close.

"Yes, and they will be killed long before they get here," Michael said, giving Puck a meaningful look.

"Indeed," he replied before hopping up, "I guess it's up to fate t' decide if I die a servant or a freed man."

Michael watched Puck walk away and Santana realized now that she had interrupted some other conversation.

"I was intruding on something."

"Not really, we were merely escaping the bedlam," he said and Santana understood not to question any further. "Why are you here?" the question was asked gently and when she turned to him she saw concern in his eyes.

"The king has requested his queen so I was sent away," she said, making Brittany's fate seem more obvious than it actually was to her.

"I see, he still worries about his legacy."

"When did he ever stop?"

"Hmm, I suppose I should have said he is more worried now than ever before. I hear he has taken to bringing more women to his bed, servants that cannot refuse him."

Santana frowned, "Now? While he is too injured to move fully?"

Michael sighed, "I have heard that with him bedding two women and getting neither with child the king finally decided to consider the fault may lie with him."

She immediately understood, she suspected the information had come from Tina, but she didn't feel the need to ask.

"Has he ever…" she started, then stopped, because there was nothing in the question that wasn't violently intrusive or anything she really wanted to know.

"Has he ever gotten Lihua with child?" he asked, having discerned the rest, "We have never taken the time to find out."

"Sorry, it wasn't my intention to pry like that."

He merely shrugged and stared back out at the ocean. Santana did the same, but unfortunately it made her think of everything she had been told. And now there was a sharp pain in her chest that was acute enough to make her gasp every time she thought of the upcoming battle and Brittany's possible fate.

"Michael," she said, her voice hoarse as if she had been screaming for hours, "do you ever wish you had never met Tina? That life would be easier without what you feel now?"

"No," he said immediately, "there has never been one day where I have not thanked the heavens for her."

Santana looked to him with sad and weary eyes, "How? How can this be better? Maybe it could be like you said, with her soul and yours meeting later, just not now, in this."

She needed him to explain, she needed to know because at the moment there seemed to be no benefit to her feelings and no hope for them. There was no pleasant future for her and Brittany, the best she could hope for was to love her in secret while constantly fearing death.

He sighed, seeing her need to hear his reasons, "Our marriage was arranged, as was my parent's, however, unlike them I was able to love the woman I was given. I've traveled the world and learned that the rarest thing to find is two people who are truly meant to be at each other's side. I hate Archibald with all my being and if my death wouldn't make Lihua so sad I would give my life to end his. Every time he takes her I feel like I am being eaten alive from the inside and there is nothing I can do to stop it; sleep, drink, nothing can ever numb the pain. But what I feel when I look at her, when I love her, it does not even compare. Living without knowing her love is the worst thing I can think of."

Santana looked at him in awe and nodded, "I can understand your feelings."

He gave a rueful smile, "Can you?"

"I can…" she said not willing to divulge more, but Michael's interest seemed piqued and as she had always asked such personal things of him she felt compelled to be more open. Steeling herself against his possible reaction she continued, "But it's a woman I feel for."

He chuckled, "And do I know this friend of yours? I don't wish to pry either, but I have not known you to spend time with anyone outside our small group. Would Lihua be who we are speaking of?"

"No," she said quickly shaking her head before realizing he was assuming that the relationship she spoke of was based on only friendship, "I meant what I said in a… romantic way," she confessed with great difficulty.

His brow knit as he took that in before he carefully asked, "To be sure I understand your meaning, you are saying there is a woman you feel strongly for? In the way I feel for my wife?"

She gave a slow nod thinking maybe that bit of information might have done better kept to herself. Michael's reaction, though muted like Puck's, was clearly far less accepting.

"Does this woman return the sentiment?"

"Yes," she muttered, suddenly not wanting to talk about it anymore.

His frown deepened as he thought harder and Santana was just about to try and once again broach the subject of the upcoming war when he asked, "The queen?"

Her eyes widened at that and her heart jumped around wildly in her chest, "How…"

A half smile replaced his frown, "She is the only woman I can think of that you have spent any considerable time with. And the only person I know who is, uh, eccentric enough to return such feelings."

She gulped feeling a sharp fear grip her as she thought about him possibly telling someone and was reminded forcibly of Karofsky, "Don't tell anyone."

He gave another stale chuckle, "I won't, I have no desire to see either of you hung."

Sounds of the sea filled the air for a while before Santana said, "It makes you uncomfortable. What I am," she said feeling incredibly uncomfortable herself.

Michael gave her a quick glance, "I won't pretend to understand what you share or why, but I can't say it upsets me." Looking back over the ocean again, deep in thought, he continued, "If you indeed feel for her what I feel for Lihua then I am sorry for you, and your love, but I am glad you have both found happiness."

"You don't think me odd?"

She could see his face twist into something between apologetic and contemplative, "It is unusual. I have heard of others like yourself, though mainly through Puck, but I'd never given the reality of it any serious thought." Santana hung her head slightly feeling worse about herself than she had in a long time when Michael took her hand, "Don't let my words make you doubt yourself. I have wished for our queen to know real kindness from the moment I saw the truth of her situation and if you are the person to show her that kindness I am nothing, but happy for you."

She smiled back at him, hating how much his opinion mattered to her but feeling elated nonetheless, "But you do think me odd," she said with a small laugh.

A kind look crossed his face that she knew few besides his wife ever saw, "I wouldn't say odd. If she loves you as you say, I would think you fortunate."

As it turned out the news of Archibald's intent caused court to run late into the day, and by the time Santana saw Brittany again it was under the formality of the evening meal. Archibald sat on his side, being fed while glaring daggers across the table at his wife, meaning they couldn't even exchange a private word.

Once she had escorted her queen to her bath and they were in isolated privacy, the blonde finally spoke as Santana helped her out of her dress.

"He only wanted to discuss a letter he had received," she said to clarify the reason for her earlier departure.

Santana only nodded and helped her into the water, however, obviously her silence was worrying the queen, so as she began to clean her back she asked, "What was the letter about?"

"It was from my older sister," she said and Santana felt surprised, she had never known Brittany had siblings.

"How many sisters do you have?"

"Eleven, though not all by the same mother. I only have two by blood, having so many girls was why my father traded me for a claim to the throne."

Santana nodded, but refused to let Brittany dwell on the heartache that was her father, "What did she want?"

"I don't know," she said sadly, "It was written in my native tongue, but I can't read it anymore. Matthew can speak it, so he hoped I would be able to read the words for him to decipher for Artie."

"He was angry you couldn't?"

"Sort of, but he was more worried that it was bad news of the war since it has been some time since his father has sent word. I was angrier than he was."

"Why?"

"Because I have completely forgotten my home," her voice wavered, revealing her sadness, "I couldn't understand a single word."

Santana sat quietly for a long time, washing Brittany's skin, pink from scrubbing and the heat of the bath, thinking hard on what to say.

It was with no small amount of effort that she admitted, "I don't remember my name."

Brittany frowned, "It's Santana, right?"

"I don't remember my surname. I remember I liked it, and that I always thought it fit me, but after… after everything was gone I never said it or even thought of it, because it hurt so much to remember. And now it's just gone."

As the confession left her mouth she realized she was shaking slightly and she handed the cloth over to Brittany before tucking her hands under her arms.

The blonde looked up at her with a small smile, "I never had one, so you can be like me."

That made Santana frown slightly, "I thought you came from a royal family?"

She laughed a little, "We aren't really royals, more like the strongest of the outcasts. But where I come from, girls aren't given a surname until they marry. They never belong to their fathers, only to the men who will wed them, so you can see why, when the rules of succession here reached my father's ears, he was so eager to make use of me."

"That sounds... unpleasant," she said, not wanting to offend.

"I never liked the idea either, but since you no longer claim a surname it works perfectly. We can just be Brittany and Santana."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Is that your way of suggesting we marry?"

She giggled in response, "No, it's my way of saying I belong to you."

Santana had held on to the weight of forgetting herself for some time, it was something that had eaten at her every time she had dared think of it, and just like that Brittany had turned it into something that could make her smile.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she leaned over and gave a kiss to the woman who owned her heart so completely.

It didn't take long for it to escalate until they were both panting and Santana was in danger of being pulled in the water, but this time the brunette pulled away and calmly offered her charge a drying cloth. Brittany pouted magnificently as she did and changed into her nightclothes before being escorted to bed.

The queen entered her chambers and crawled into bed, clearly ready to drag out her goodnight kiss to make up for the loss of intimacy earlier, but when they kissed it wasn't the same. Santana didn't hover over her and pull away when they got too close, instead she pushed the covers away and sat at her side before kissing her fully. Immediately, Brittany understood that this was something else entirely and didn't hesitate to return the kiss, letting her hands go where they wanted. And they wanted to pull Santana closer.

In the overall picture Santana knew what she was doing was incredibly foolish, she knew that the king could walk in at any time. She knew that doing what she was planning would only link them together, that it would make every pain suffered by one that much more intense to the other. However, she had decided it was worth it, her senses and her still burning scars told her it was folly. But her heart kept breaking every time she thought of dying having only the one moment in the woods between them, of Brittany being killed without her having been able to fully express the extent of her love. The potential sorrow of having been too fearful of death to give herself something worth living for was too great.

So she kissed Brittany for all she was worth while taking off her gown, having a much easier time with it than the dress. It was removed easily enough, but Brittany seemed to have reached the end of her patience with being the only person naked in the room and nearly ripped Santana's shirt in an effort to remove it and her bindings.

The moment her chest was exposed, starving hands caressed her and squeezed tender flesh while hot kisses went from her lips to her neck. And though Santana thought she understood the varying degrees of pleasure, the feeling of Brittany's lips as they took in her breasts made everything else seem mild in comparison.

She allowed the assault on her chest to continue and was in a foggy, pleasure induced haze when the queen began to remove the rest of her clothing, but it was something she snapped right out of when a blazing fire was lit from where Brittany had buried her fingers. A strangled gasp escaped Santana as Brittany began to work her fingers inside of her, she had no idea what experience the queen had with the act, but if her performance was anything to go by she would have guessed the woman to be a master. With ease she pulled Santana between her legs for better access, leaving the smaller woman to wonder at herself, at how she managed not to scream aloud from the feel of it.

Santana felt herself slipping away, off the edge of reality and to the beautiful place beyond, but somehow had the strength to pull the nimble fingers from her and move away.

Brittany looked startled and more than a little worried, "Was I doing something wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, you," she paused, because it was too hard to breath and talk, "I want to do something else."

She frowned, "Like play a game or something?"

Santana chuckled and moved closer again, this time pulling Brittany close and lying her down on the bed. Her lover accepted the guidance with gentle, focused eyes that never broke contact with hers. And it was a little unnerving; especially in light of the fact that she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing.

Doing her best to mimic what she had seen before, she interlocked her legs with Brittany's in the same way that had played in her mind over and over and pressed into her, hoping that it would become immediately clear what it was she was supposed to do to get the same reaction from the woman below her. However, when they met she still had no inkling as to how this was supposed to bring either of them pleasure. But being unwilling to back down she pressed into her and pushed her hips forward and then she felt it. She felt the jolt from meeting Brittany's sensitive nub with her own and to her most intense pleasure it was clear she wasn't the only one who felt it. From there she had it; she knew exactly how to move.

Her hips almost immediately found the exact motion needed to hit the right spot on every thrust and she moved with no other purpose than to make Brittany moan. A goal that was not hard to meet, soon the blonde was holding her so tightly her nails bit into the skin of her back making them the first cuts she had ever wanted there. The first ones she was outright proud of.

As they moved together Brittany buried her face in Santana's neck, muffling her pants and screams and Santana merely stared fixedly at the bed, trying not to focus too hard on what was happening, because if she did she'd be lost; gone over the edge with no return. Because she could feel that same feeling from before, the one Puck seemed perpetually unable to satisfy, the overwhelming feeling of something from deep within rising up.

It wasn't until Brittany's throaty moans took a more frantic note that she allowed herself to move and reclaim her lover's lips before she watched her climax, a deep groan escaping the taller woman even as their kiss deepened. The feel of Brittany's release and the sharp bite of nails raking across her back made Santana do the same even though she would have loved to have been able to relish the sight a bit longer. But the feeling from before couldn't be held back for another moment, and when that feeling hit her full on, for the first time in her life she felt a true release. One that shook her to the very core, making her feel totally drained and completely alive at the same time.

Compared to the first time in the woods it took them twice as long for their breathing to return to normal, though they both took their time, coming down slowly while holding each other and sharing languid kisses. After some time and several failed attempts Santana was able to sit up and offer her queen a final, tender kiss before grabbing her clothing and throwing it on carelessly.

"Wait," Brittany said sitting up, looking slightly alarmed, "don't leave."

Feeling a little hurt by the look the other woman was giving her, she sat back down and gave her another kiss, "I have to return to my room, if the king finds me here in the morning it will be trouble."

"Not if you're clothed. It isn't unusual to have a servant of the same sex stay in bed. The queen sovereign did it all the time when her husband would go overseas. It's something royals commonly do for comfort," Brittany argued.

And with her cheeks flushed and hair tousled from their coupling, Santana wanted to just agree and return to her arms, but she knew better.

"If the king came in here and saw you taking comfort from me, regardless of what kind, do you think that would bode well?"

She sighed and shook her head, "No, he'd take you away out of spite the moment he felt angered by me."

"Then it's best to have him think I'm just another servant," she said before helping Brittany back into her nightclothes and tucking her in properly.

Santana stood to go to the door, but unfortunately turned to see the forsaken look on her queen's face, forcing her to return to her side, offering one more passionate kiss.

"Tell me this won't be the last time," Brittany said when they broke apart.

She almost chuckled at the notion, "No, mi reina, it won't be."

The moment the words slipped from her mouth she froze, because it had been completely unintentional, as a matter of fact she wasn't even sure what it meant. Vaguely, she remembered that it was something her father had called her mother in their more loving moments, but if her memory served, and it often didn't, it applied to Brittany in more than one way.

Having caught what she said, the queen gave a curious smile, "Those are words from your native land." When Santana nodded sheepishly Brittany inquired, "What does it mean?"

And then she remembered what it meant literally and what it meant between lovers, but the day had been trying and she wasn't ready to express what some part of her mind had given so easily.

"Don't worry over it, sleep now," she said, giving an encouraging smile and a final kiss on the forehead before hurrying out.

Quickly, Santana dashed into her room, knowing full well that there was no chance for sleep, her mind was racing and Elisa's lashes were warring with Brittany's scratches for attention.

But at least she had found a word for what she felt; Brittany was her queen, and not in the same way she was for the Abrams Kingdom. She was the queen of Santana's heart, body, and mind, the lone ruler of a kingdom meant only for her. Brittany was her everything.

It was an elating and terrifying thought.