A big thanks to Woman of the Dunedain, jesuisperdu, LenaLove and X, my anonymous little pixie,for your delightful reviews!

And thanks to SweeterSn, VampireLoveForever27, HRH Mia, Mrs. Clark, thereadingfairy, jenny-harkness, bella9, and sushi1sama for throwing this on your Story Alert/Favourite pile! Loving you guys.

Special thanks to jillyanne who seems to think I am worthy of her Favourite Author pile. "Four for you Glen Coco, you go Glen Coco!"

Playlist: 'The Big Afraid' by 65daysofstatic.

3
A winter's day, a bitter snowflake on my face
My summer girl takes little backward steps away
And when she smiles, the ice forgets to melt away
Her smile was warming yesterday
A memory of the summer day.

"I feel so clean." Greta giggled, bobbing up and down as she scrubbed herself over with a rough bar of soap.

We lounged in the great bath that once contained galleons of thick, sickly milk where Ravenna performed her daily ritual. It looked fine now. Only half-full with warm, bubbly water which we soaked in.

The minimal undergarments we still wore received a good cleansing too. I rubbed away the smell of battle and sweat, the stains of dirt and sand. It felt like heaven compared to the small, cold bowl of water I used to receive each day in my cell.

Now I was beginning to feel like royalty. Let alone a soon-to-be-Queen.

'The Big Afraid'.

Queen. The thought made all of my organs squirm uncomfortably. Duke Hammond's words rebounded in my head over and over. Later we'll have to begin further business. Further business. Further business! Who knew what that would entail.

I needed the Duke and I needed William. They were used to running castles, and subjects, and - I don't know, fields, or whatever it was. They would take me through the steps. They would show me how to get things in working order.

But after today's frightful encounter, I had the feeling that I was getting off on the wrong foot with Hammond. All I was currently concerned with was efficiency, immediate comfort for all those unhappy people in the hall. Making things fair for everybody. Extending the hand of friendship to those who could easily be misunderstood.

As I reflected now, gradually losing touch with Greta's chirpy comments, I began to process my situation logically.
I had just fed roughly a thousand men with the capable hands of the kitchen workers, and the stores of food that were on hand. The late Queen had been prepared for an enduring battle, and was overly indulgent with everything, in any case.

I never thought to ask how much food there actually was, or was going to be left over.
I remembered the faces of the strangers in the village I had ridden through on my escape route. Disfigured with starvation, thin and curling like diseased plants.

I had intended my next actions to be directed towards them, providing immediate relief as I had for the soldiers. Would there now be enough stock left over to send to them? Or would I have to dispatch a temporarily meagre portion, making them feel secondary to the castle, rousing their already bitter spirits?

I threw the soap bar to one side and lay on my back, floating in a silent world where the water shielded my ears from Greta, and the ceiling hovered lazily above me. Swirling, artful carvings lined the tops of the walls just before the roof began to slant. The beams were so straight and perfect as they reached towards a singular point, a certain goal, the pinnacle of the turret.

Yes, I thought softly. Yes, that was just it. I must aim for a certain point in the future. I couldn't always live in the here and now; I had to have a secure sense of what was ahead for the people I took under my wing. Every course of action I decided upon must be straight, determined. And all must reach towards that same future goal.

And the goal was the simplest thing in the world.
Simply the opposite of the kingdom Ravenna had created.
The kingdom my father would have sustained.

Music Fades.

I was prodded gently on the arm.

"Sorry." I sat up, shaking water out of my hair and then beginning to scrub that too.
"Someone's knocking on the door."
"Oh. Well why haven't any of you answered?" I glanced about at the three waiting maids who had been hauled up from the kitchens to help us.
I asked as politely as I could, but it still sounded condescending. I winced.

"Please Majesty, we aren't allowed to answer until you give permission." one rapped out in a well-trained tone. Obviously she had learned this lesson the hard way from Ravenna at some point.

"What are your names?"
"Rosaline, Majesty."
"Sally, Majesty."
"Bethany, Majesty." said the one who had answered my first question.

"Bethany. I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Could you ask who it is, please?"

A second later she whipped back around from the crack in the door.
"It's the huntsman, Ma'am. He's brought up a fresh load of hot water."

I felt my face burning up, as when William had bragged to me about my own wisdom earlier.
If anything, this heat was worse. I could positively feel my cheeks going dark.
Let alone having him tear my dress off at the knees. This was downright vulgarity, me in this bath.

"Tell him to wait a moment. Rosaline, please may I have a towel? And could I have some help with these wet things? I'm done bathing."
I was helped up out of the enormous pool, and flocked by the two girls who weren't keeping the hunstman at the door.

As they removed the soaking, clean underthings and wrapped me in a huge, rough sheet of flannel from neck to toe, I felt a pang of guilt at leaving him to wait outside the room for all that time.
But he wouldn't go away - he said he had to act as my guard for now - and I couldn't have him in here.

Clinging to the coarse fabric from the inside, and tucking the top folds under my chin, I called "Come in," in as brave a voice as I could muster.

He strode purposefully into the room, only glancing my way once before dumping the bucket's content into the bath. Greta squeaked, covering her shoulders with her arms and curling her naked legs beneath her.

I felt a sudden twist in my stomach, despite the fact that the huntsman paid the girl no attention whatsoever. Another woman in the same room as him, exposed to his eyes. For a moment, I had myself convinced that she had stayed in the water in order for exactly this to happen. After all, he was...

He was...

Desirable? Was that even a word I could associate with my comrade?
He set the bucket down and swivelled to face me. My stomach flipped again, but in a very different way, as I saw his expression change from indifference to attentiveness as soon as he locked his clear sea-blue stare upon mine.

I felt very, very naked underneath all the wrappings of material. Even though only my ankles were peeking out from under it.

"I'm sorry I've kept you outside for so long." I muttered, barely able to look at his feet as I dropped my eyes from that piercing look, "You got bored, then."
"I thought I should do something useful." he chuckled.

Chuckled?
I couldn't help it. I dared to peek up, and there was that same grin lingering in his orbs. This time, it was also lifting the corners of his charming lips, perceptibly.

... Did I just call his lips 'charming'?

"Well, if Greta gets out, perhaps you can put it to use yourself." I suggested, noting the way I emphasised the point about my new girl exiting the bath. The thought of him jumping in with her somehow managed to make my hands clench around the towel compulsively.

He gave another hearty rumbling chortle, and nodded his assent.
"I couldn't possibly turn down the opportunity."

With that, he stripped off his hooded deerskin jacket, and reached for the belt that held his leather shoulder cover in place. My mouth dropped open.
He carried on mercilessly, removing the various belts that held his axes to his body, followed by the tough hide jerkin whose strings he tugged loose with surprisingly precise fingers.

He was watching my face a little too intently as he threw off his wristguards and untucked his rough woven shirt. Then, for the third time, he laughed quietly. This time at my expense.
"Well, if it disconcerts you, get out."

Then I fled, with or without Greta.

I shut the door behind me and leaned against the cooling stone wall, still dressed only in my towel. How inappropriate.
More appropriate than watching my companion taking off however many garments, standing merely metres away from me. Something about it rang alarm calls in my head.

My heart rate was up, my breathing loud and uncomfortable.
And, unsurprisingly, I was angry. More with myself than with that outrageous man. Because I didn't want to feel flustered and unsafe around him. His job was to make me feel protected, and utterly grounded. It was what he had always done, from the moment he decided to accept my bribe and guide me to Hammond's castle. From the moment I had roared at the troll, wanting only to shield him. To protect my protector.

Because without him, I was nobody.

One thing I was grateful for. He hadn't called me Princess or Majesty once since the battle. Not even when he was calling for my praise from that turret window.
To him, I was still the useless girl he had been bribed into hunting down. The girl he had abandoned in the village, the girl he had braved the Sanctuary with.

I needed that, more than I needed anything. It kept the word Queen at bay, an impotent echo of a meaning. It stemmed the desperate feelings of isolation that were quickly closing their nets around me.

With this infinitely calming thought to shove off any other interruptions, I finally felt my heart slow and my lungs stop working at full throttle. I tilted up my chin, straightened my back, and reopened the door with an unbreakable demeanor of dignity and strength.