Careful not to disturb the woman sprawled asleep in her bed, Terreis slid out from under the covers and shrugged into a heavy robe to ward off the chill clinging to the walls of her chamber, surprised to find herself too keyed up to sleep. She glanced back at Maya, noting the way she took up most of the mattress with a raised brow. Or perhaps simply too uncomfortable ... not because of the lack of sleeping room, but....

She shook her head, throwing off any memories of their lovemaking or the moments when she'd fantasized the body in her arms was that of the outlander. 

Shying from the thought and the complications it could mean for her life, the queen stepped away from the bed, peering out the an open archway. The moon was high. Well past mid of night, she thought as she turned away with a soft sigh, not liking the thought of returning to a bed that suddenly seemed crowded and awkward.

A faint stirring of fabric drew her attention back toward the servant's pallet where the outlander slept buried under the thin blanket. Only her arm was visible where it dangled awkwardly off the edge of the mattress, pinned there by the bruising weight of the manacle that locked her wrist to the bedframe. The queen tugged her robe a little more tightly around her angular frame as it struck her just how cold the room was. With summer turning to fall, night-time temperatures were dipping lower every night, and the blanket on the servant's bed was meant for summer use. Thin as she was, the outlander was probably freezing, her body forced to use reserves it simply didn't have. Without pausing to consider the unease tightening like a band around her chest, she moved to retrieve a couple of additional blankets from a cupboard, then stepped up to the outlander's bedside, pausing as she stared down at the unmoving lump of bedding. Her head was hidden under the pillow, leaving Terreis to wonder if the other woman had heard her with Maya. She didn't know what to make of that thought, horror at the idea or curiosity about what the prisoner might have thought. Neither thought was particularly comfortable, so she dismissed them both, simply hoping the outlander had slept through any noise they might have made. Her gaze slid down to touch on the slender joint encased in the heavy shackles, and a muscle pulsed in her jaw. Sick that such delicacy needed to be encased so cruelly, she barely restrained the urge to unlock the cold steel and free the woman by reminding herself just how dangerous she might well be. As weak as she was, she'd still managed to bloody two guards. Just because she was physically weak didn't mean she was tractable and trustworthy. Terreis couldn't help but wonder if her own desires were somehow the product of the outlander's efforts at manipulation.

Shaking out the blankets, she spread them over her prisoner's too slender form, fanning them out with a light hand to avoid waking her. As weak as the woman was, she needed the sleep. She glanced toward the food tray, frowning as she realized she'd left it too far from the bed for her prisoner to reach either food or liquid if she woke during the night. Startled by the weight of guilt that settled on her shoulders for her thoughtlessness, she pulled a small table over, then retrieved the tray of food and drink and set it on the table. After staring at the unmoving lump made by her prisoner for a long moment, she slipped out, stepping through the large anteroom and into the receiving chamber. There were two guards on the doors, and she nodded as she recognized the taller of them, waving him over.

"My Queen," Rubio said, offering a respectful duck of his head as he joined her.

Indicating he should follow, she stepped back into the anteroom, not wanting the other guard to overhear. "The dungeon guards?" she demanded, her tone clipped.

"I reported their behavior to the master of the watch," he quickly assured her. "He assured me they will be punished."

"Good. I won't have that sort of thing happening. It's unacceptable." They were lucky she hadn't handled their case herself, or they might have found themselves sent to front, where they could face an enemy that could fight back.

The guard nodded in agreement, his look of distaste obvious. "The woman?" he questioned.

"She sleeps," Terreis responded, momentarily distant. After a second, she refocused on the guard. "I'll be busy the next several days ... and she needs close care." She looked pointedly at him. "Can I trust you, Rubio?"

The young man straightened, nodding seriously. "I would like to think so, My Queen."

"I want nothing to happen to her. She's the only tie to the outlanders we've found so far. I need to know what she knows." She folded her hands together at the small of her back. "Unfortunately, I fear for her safety. I cannot stay here and be with her at all times ... there's simply too much to be done, and no one else to do it ... and she's too weak to move...."

"Highness?" Rubio said, clearly confused.

"Is there any female servant you trust completely in the castle?" Terreis responded without explaining further.

"My wife, Elyana," the guard answered without pausing to consider. "She's a maid for Lord Ezri."

The queen nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. "Inform her master that she's to serve here from now on ... I want the two of you to look after the outlander. You can move into the attached servants' quarters. You've seen the condition the woman is in, so you must realize she'll need constant physical care for some time, but I also need you to make sure she's never without a guard, for her safety ... and everyone else's." She turned a sharp gaze on the young man. "Understood?"

He nodded quickly, eager to please. "Yes, My Queen."

"Good, this is very important to me," she said intently, wanting to impress upon him the significance of the assignment. "We must learn why the outlanders are attacking ... and she's the only clue we have. Unfortunately, I fear some might allow emotion to rule their heads, and destroy the one thing that might answer our questions."

The young soldier was silent for a long moment, then nodded very seriously. "I understand, Your Highness ... and I will do everything in my power to see to her safety. You have my word."

"Good," the queen said, liking what she saw in his eyes. "Then you'll do." She nodded in dismissal. "Now, inform your captain that I've personally given you a new assignment, and he's to assign someone to see to your normal duties. Then have him give you key to one of the empty servant's rooms attached to my chambers. Bring your wife ... I want both of you to get some sleep tonight. I'll call you when you're needed in the morning. Also, before you see to those things, please inform the royal metalsmith I wish to see him ... immediately."

Rubio frowned, but didn't argue. "He may need some proof that you sent me, My Queen."

She turned away, crossing to the huge freestanding jewelry box and dug through until she came up with a gold and ruby pin that bore the royal crest. Turning, she tossed it to the guard. "This should do well enough to prove your claim to anyone who questions it."

The young man's eyes bulged as he stared at the thing in his hand. "Aye, My Queen," he agreed, swallowing hard.

"Perform your responsibilities well, Rubio, and that's yours," the queen promised him.

He looked up, disbelief in his eyes. "But this is--"

"Meaningless when compared with loyalty," Terreis said seriously.

He was silent for a long moment, his look almost contemplative. "I shall do my best to earn such trust, My Liege."

"I have faith you shall," she assured him, then nodded toward the doors. "Now, go."

After ducking his head in respectful acknowledgment, he hurried out.

Once he was gone, Terreis turned toward the jewelry cabinet, digging the through the haphazardly arranged collection until she found what she needed. Plucking a beautifully filigreed pair of bracelets from inside, she studied them carefully before deciding they would do. She was just turning away when the royal metalsmith appeared in the doorway, his head respectfully bowed. He was wearing a thin robe over his nightclothes and breathing hard enough to make her certain he'd run the whole way.

"My Queen," the burly smithy said quickly.

"Good, you're here." She offered an approving smile, then added, "My apologies for waking you, but I'm afraid I've a task I need you to see to immediately."

"Of course, My Liege."

Terreis offered him the bracelets and a smile. "Good," she said softly, then quickly described what she needed, well aware of his curious expression, though he had the good sense not to ask.

When she was finished, he considered the problem for a moment, then spoke, his eyes downcast, his manner faintly uneasy. "What you ask isn't simple, Highness. It may take several days to craft."

She nodded her understanding. "Take such time as is needed. I wish this done properly." She offered him an encouraging smile. "However, the sooner you can finish it, the better."

"Of course, My Queen," he assured her quickly. "I'll have this done for you as quickly as I'm able."

Smiling her approval, she nodded to dismiss him. "I have the utmost faith in your abilities."

"I will do my best to live up to your faith, My Queen," he stammered after a moment, then with a few last words, slipped out.

Terreis stared after him for a long moment, her expression thoughtful, then silently turned and stepped back into her bedchamber. Pale eyes touched on the curtain shrouded shadow of her bed while sharp ears picked out the heavy sound of her lover's breathing. Still sleeping, she thought with no small degree of relief, then stepped over to the pallet where her prisoner lay only to realize the woman had rolled onto her side and was leaning on one elbow and staring up at her, her eyes luminous in the faint light.

Not knowing what else to say, the queen nodded to indicate the table. "I moved the food and drink closer ... so you can reach it." She reached out, filling a glass with fresh water. "You're to eat and drink whenever you wake tonight ... but no more than two glasses of liquid ... try to stick with water ... at most one glass of juice ... and no more than ten pieces of food." As starved as she was, to eat or drink too heavily risked stressing her system too much. Better to keep the amounts small for a day or two to let her system adjust. "Understood?"

She half expected a fight, but the outlander nodded. "Yes."

"Good," Terreis exhaled, not knowing what else to say. A moment passed and then she spoke softly. "I'll be in meetings tomorrow, but I've arranged for your care ... the guard who helped rescue you ... and his wife." She leaned down, staring into dark eyes, her expression full of warning. "You will do as they tell you ... and offer them no harm ... or your life will be forfeit."

"I'm not likely to hurt anyone," Janet denied resentfully, her faint movement clanking the manacles gently, "even if I tried."

"Nonetheless, I want you to understand the price if they're hurt in any way. I value the lives of those who serve me and will tolerate no attack on them."

"You needn't worry," the outlander said softly, her eyes dropping to the blankets Terreis had thrown over her while she slept. A hint of a frown touched her brow.

Terreis nodded, satisfied for the moment that her prisoner understood the stakes. "Good," she breathed. She stared at the outlander's free hand as she reached out, fingering the new blankets, clearly noting how much heavier they were than the one she'd started with. The queen held out the water she'd poured. "You should eat and drink now," she said to distract the woman from her curiosity. For reasons she didn't care to consider, she was in no hurry to tell the outlander that she was the one who'd shown her the small kindness.

The hand that reached for the was glass was far steadier than it had been during their earlier confrontation, and a strange combination of fear and challenge glittered in dark eyes. For a moment, Terreis' fingers tightened on the crystal, refusing to release it, and she saw the way both emotions ramped up. It would be a fight, and having had a few hours of sleep, the prisoner was more able to resist now. The queen's teeth gritted as her pulse leapt, the memory of how their last confrontation had gone burning in her blood. It would be so easy to simply--

Maya stirred, rustling the blankets noisily as she rolled over on the mattress.

Both queen and prisoner froze, their eyes swinging toward the heavily shrouded bed.

Reminded of her lover, Terreis abruptly released the glass, yanking her hand back and letting it hang at her side, faintly appalled by her own behavior. Stepping back a pace, she folded her hands together at the small of her back, schooling her expression into one of disinterested command. "Eat and drink," she said very softly without making any further move.

A hint of an ironic smile touched full lips as a gently trembling hand reached out to the tray. "For tomorrow we die," the outlander exhaled, then absently began chewing on the piece of bread she'd picked up. She looked up when Terreis didn't immediately respond. "I hope you weren't expecting me to go for the merry part of that saying."

Frowning, the queen shook her head, not understanding the meaning behind the tangle of words and uncertain how to read her prisoner's mood. "There's no reason for anyone to die," she disagreed at last, her voice low. Considering the culture she came from, it would make sense for Janet to fear that her own life was likely forfeit.

A single, expressive eyebrow rose. "It's a saying," the outlander said after a moment, then quoted, "'Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.'" She grabbed another piece of bread off the tray and wolfed it down, then took a long draft from the water glass.

"A rather harsh philosophy," Terreis murmured disapprovingly.

The prisoner looked down at her wrist, intentionally clanking the heavy manacle tying her to the bedframe, her expression grim. "It seemed appropriate."

Suddenly needing to see the look in the other woman's eyes to assess her honesty, Terreis reached out, tucking a finger under Janet Fraiser's chin and drawing her head back up. "You're in no danger of dying," she said very softly, then found the urge to let her fingers explore far too tempting and stroked a velvety cheek. "Particularly if you tell me the things I need to know." She wanted to build a bridge and create some degree of trust. Maybe then, she could find a way to end the conflict destroying so many lives.

Her expression unreadable, Janet shook her head. "Would that I knew," she whispered.

Unable to think of anything to say to that soft, almost mournful whisper, Terreis simply pulled her hand back once again, folding it back into the other one at the small of her back as she watched the other woman eat a few more bites and drain the last of the water she'd poured.

When she was finished, the outlander's eyes slid closed and she sank into the mattress, exhaustion catching up with her once again. She lay unmoving for several moments, until Terreis thought she'd fallen asleep once again, then her eyes snapped open again, and she stared up at the queen. "Who are you really?"

Dark blonde brows drew together in a frown. "Queen Terreis of Arrathonea; the leader of my people ... their defender and protector ... and hopefully someone who can one day look back on her life with some degree of pride in what she's accomplished." When no comment was forthcoming, she quietly asked, "And you? Who are you?"

The woman on the bed closed her eyes, sounding lost and tired as she sighed, "Good question. I'll let you know when I have an answer." This time she did slide into sleep, her weakened body no longer up to the challenge of dealing with her captor or her situation.

The queen stood silently watching her for a long time after she was certain she was asleep again. Finally, she stepped away from the narrow pallet, shoulders slumped, the prospect of returning to her own thick blankets and thicker pillows suddenly less than comfortable for reasons she didn't care to contemplate. Brushing the bed curtains back, she stared at the woman sleeping there, her arms spread as if to establish dominance over the maximum possible amount of space. She started to pull the blankets back, only to freeze. In an instant, numb fingers opened and she dropped the blankets as she turned away.

There were several chairs on the balcony and she tugged the most comfortable looking one over to the front railing. The stars overhead held her attention as she sat, leaning back, her ankles loosely crossed where she hooked them over the low balustrade. Staring at the bright points of light high overhead, she found herself trying to resolve them into some kind of organization in her head, an annoying sense that she should know more about them nagging at her. It suddenly struck her that her people should have noted such thing long before. They should have charted the stars, noted their placements and the patterns of their movement, and tried to understand how it related to their own world. A sudden image of pictures overlaying their arrangement suddenly appeared in her head, but the brief flash didn't match up to what she was looking at and she blinked it away. Still, the idea wasn't bad. Break things into smaller, related groupings, then it would be easier to study them and notate their placement. It could turn the myriad of glittering lights into a manageable system. If she put a team on it....

That thought trailed off almost instantly. A team? A team of what, ministers who could barely find their backsides by searching with both hands? She'd have a better chance of training a wild nerf to the task. Cursing her own inability to be everywhere at once, she shoved the idea to the back of her mind. For now it would have to wait ... just like so many other ideas she had. As she considered her ancestors' historic efforts to consolidate power and knowledge with the elite, she found herself cursing their stupidity. They'd done their jobs so well that even her ministers were next to useless. There were a reasonable number of skilled craftsmen in the kingdom, but their knowledge appeared to be entirely limited to their own trades. In speaking to various of them since the outlander attacks had begun she'd yet to find one who'd considered how their work related to other fields. Even her chief scientist's knowledge was hopelessly compartmentalized. He could follow her orders exactly, but seemed unable to come up with an original idea to save his life. No one ever seemed to see the larger picture or how things related to each other.

No one but her.

And putting it together was her task, she reminded herself. That was why she had been trained from birth in every art and science imaginable. Would that she knew more. Perhaps then she could do more to ease her people's suffering. Her eyes slid closed, and she drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her folded legs. The weight of her responsibilities sitting heavily on her shoulders, she sank into herself, wishing there was someone else who could be trusted to handle some measure of it all. Then maybe there'd be a little time left over to explore the complicated weave of questions and musings in her own mind. No, Terreis reminded herself, there was no room for that until they'd driven the outlanders back. Once that was done, then maybe a few people could be taught additional skills to help oversee the necessary rebuilding. Sighing softly, she couldn't contain a flinch as she considered how hard the ministers would likely fight her, Valchon particularly. Sadly, his focus had moved more to vengeance than rebuilding, and he had absolutely no interest in any changes to the established order. As far as he was concerned, the only thing needed was enough weapons to slaughter their attackers ... as if simply killing the attacking soldiers would solve everything. Firstly, it didn't guarantee that more wouldn't come. She had a hard time believing that an army so brutal to its enemies would care overmuch about their own losses. And most importantly, it wouldn't restore lost lives or recover destroyed property. He seemed to have no capacity to understand the damage done to their infrastructure or why it was imperative that it be restored and improved upon, or that weapons were useless if her people had nothing to eat or drink.

Feeling her increasing frustration with her senior minister's refusal to understand that their approach to fighting this enemy needed to be a multi-pronged one, she forced it down, willing herself to step away from the larger problems, if only for a little while.

Stretching her legs back out, she leaned back and said a silent prayer as she tugged her heavy robe a little tighter around her body to ward off the late night chill. Contemplating the stars again, she found herself wondering why she'd never thought about them before. The need to understand their nature seemed so obvious that she couldn't imagine why she'd missed it for so long. It was tempting to blame the distraction of the outlanders and their attacks, but they hadn't been going on more than a few weeks, and she'd overlooked them her whole life. Wondering what else she was missing, she sighed softly, startled when a mental image of the outlander flickered in her mind's eye. Only in the momentary flash, she was healthy and strong, her hair caught back from her face, a light-hearted smile curving her lips, hand outstretched and touching....

Frowning, she reached out, trailing a finger down her left forearm. The outlander's hand had rested there in the momentary hallucination. She could almost feel the warmth and weight. She closed her eyes tightly, shuddering under a surge of almost painful desire, not just carnal want, but the desire for everything ... to see that smile, to feel the heat of her touch, to know her trust and faith. Her fingers curled against her sleeve as if to stroke velvety flesh, heat sliding through her veins with paralyzing intensity. A soft groan escaped her lips as her body throbbed in time with her suddenly raging heartbeat. Her head swung toward the door, fingers clenching on her sleeve where she'd imagined the other woman touching her. It needn't be what Maya had suggested -- all pain and torture. The woman would fight, but Terreis could overcome the fear ... teach her that kindness was possible. It would be like taming a wild animal -- as far as she could tell the outlanders were little better -- a matter of simply containing panicked struggles and offering assurances until the woman accepted she was safer and more cared for than she'd ever been in her life. Once she understood it was for the best, Janet would surrender any knowledge she had. Terreis closed her eyes tightly, images of their bodies twined together in the sheets making her tremble with need. She could have it all that way; help her people and have the woman she--

"No," she hissed, resisting the tempting impulses, her teeth gritted against confusing array of feverish sensations and emotions, none of them even remotely sensible. She had a lover ... one who had supported her through difficult times. The outlander was her enemy and nothing more. "It's not real." Hands fisting tightly, Terreis fought the illogical impulses and desires. What had that woman done to her? Was it some purposeful effort to manipulate her? If so, she feared it might be more successful than any of them could afford. Even now, when her body should have been sated by Maya's lovemaking, she burned, the ache so severe it was hard to keep her hands from floating over her body in search of some small measure of satisfaction.

"No," she hissed again, breathing slowly and deeply to control herself. She didn't know where the desire had come from, but it was just an impossible phantom with no bearing on her life. She had no business thinking such things, even in idle fantasy.

She tipped her head back on her shoulders, concentrating on the stars with effort. Try as she might to lose herself in their distant beauty, the image of impossibly deep eyes and an affectionate smile were still with her when she finally slid off to sleep some time later.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ *

"Just out of curiosity...."

Terreis snapped awake in response to the sharp voice, blinking against the early morning sunlight.

"...is there a reason there's a stranger sleeping in our room ... or did you decide you wanted an audience for our ... lovemaking?"

It took the queen a moment to throw of the haze of sleep and process the situation as she realized she'd slept the rest of the night on the balcony, it was morning, and an archly smiling Maya was standing over her, her arms folded, her expression unreadable.

"Or," her lover continued, her tone bland, "perhaps you decided one lover wasn't quite enough."

"No," the queen managed to croak at last, her throat raspy after the better part of a night sleeping in the cold. Unhooking her feet from the balustrade, she pushed upright in the chair, then brushed tousled bangs out of her eyes. "She's a prisoner. I found her being attacked in the dungeons, and felt it best to bring her here for her own safety."

"I see," Maya responded, drawing both words out, something dangerous glittering in her eyes. "Since when is it the queen's responsibility to see to prisoners?" she demanded.

Rubbing the back of her neck to release muscles stiff from the uncomfortable sleeping position, Terreis pushed to her feet, wondering who was in charge in her chambers. "Since that prisoner might have information about the outlander attacks. She's the outlander woman who was captured."

Maya frowned and her head canted to one side as her response sank in. "Well," she said at last, "and here I felt guilty for my behavior last night. I gather you decided to ... question ... her personally?" she added, putting an ugly spin on the words that left no doubt about their meaning. Her gaze raked over Terreis. "And I thought you didn't have it in you."

The queen shook her head, denying the accusation, though a flicker of guilt tightened her stomach muscles as she remembered the temptation she'd barely managed to resist. "She was attacked, would have been raped, probably murdered as well. I didn't feel it was safe to leave her there."

A sensual smile twisted her lover's full lips. "I see ... or perhaps you decided to follow family tradition," she drawled, taunting Terreis.

"I said I brought her here to avoid a rape," the queen said pointedly, "not commit one." She hadn't betrayed her lover, but she wasn't certain that would be true had the outlander showed the faintest hint of willingness. There was something about the woman that triggered her emotions in a way she couldn't even pretend to understand.

"Was it sweet kisses and silky words then?" her servant demanded.

Terreis flinched, molars grating with frustrated anger. "It was nothing of the kind," she ground out, trying to forget that a part of her had wanted just that. "She was half dead with starvation and dehydration. I simply brought her here where she'd be safe." Maya didn't need to know about anything else.

"And gave her a free show while you were at it," the smaller woman drawled, dark eyes flashing knowingly. "Tell me, love, did it excite you knowing she could listen in?"

"As she was more or less unconscious the moment she fell into bed, I doubt she noticed," the queen shot back, angry at having her word doubted, even though she had her own questions about that. "I tried to tell you, but you weren't listening at the time." She didn't add that she'd already been half aroused and had needed the release ... though it had been little help in killing her desire for the prisoner.

Maya flinched at the anger in her queen's voice, though she didn't quite have the self-control to back down. "So, you played heroine for the outlander," she sneered.

The resentment made little sense to Terreis. Where had the sweet, kind woman who had been her lover gone? "I removed her from a dangerous situation, yes," she responded, then turned a sharp look on her lover. "Would you sleep more easily in my bed if I hadn't? Would it comfort you to know you've made love to someone who could leave another human being to be treated to that kind of brutality?"

Her servant had no ready answer for that and spun away, staring out at the waking city. She leaned forward, hands braced on the balustrade. "And did you get any of the answers you were looking for?"

"No," Terreis said, wanting to accept the apparent truce. She had no desire to see her lover snapping and angry, or feel the ugly words tearing at their emotions. "She refused to say anything of any value." She let out a tiny bitter sigh, once again wondering if the outlander had somehow conspired to manipulate her desire. Had it been a way of avoiding answering questions or trying to gain influence? If so, it was doomed to failure, she reminded herself with fierce resolve. The outlander was her enemy, and while she wouldn't see her tortured, she had no intention of allowing her to gain an upper hand.

"Ah," her servant drawled and turned to face her, leaning back against the balustrade. A sensual smile curved her lips as she eyed her mistress, dark gaze running from head to toe, then back up again. "Perhaps you should question her again."

"I assure you, I will," Terreis said impatiently, the look in dark eyes making her edgy. In the last few weeks, Maya had gotten that look every time she'd gone for emotional blood, each time with increasing ferocity.

"Such determination," Maya paused for effect before continuing, "to protect your people."

"Yes," the queen confirmed, eyeing her lover suspiciously.

"Ready to do anything for them," her handmaid added, the words half a question, half statement."

"You know that," Terreis said more softly, uncertain where this was leading.

"And, last night, did you seduce the outlander on behalf of your people?" her lover demanded.

The queen made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. "I told you--" she began, but Maya interrupted her.

"Yes, I know, nothing happened." One eyebrow rose as she considered the taller woman, then a half smile twisted her lips. "I thought you were a bit forceful last night." Knowledge gleamed in dark eyes, challenging the queen to deny the inference.

A dull flush crawled over the queen's cheekbones, and she drew breath to deny the charge, only to run out of air as her lover continued.

"Were you pretending I was her when you held my hands over my head and thrust your fingers inside--"

"Don't," Terreis breathed, unable to summon any strength for the word.

She saw Maya's expression shift as she correctly read the guilt in blue eyes. Her lip curled, her expression a strange cross between aroused and jealous. "Considering the danger to our people, you really shouldn't have wasted all that energy on me .... and since you've been unsuccessful in learning the outlander's secrets so far, perhaps you should consider some new techniques."

"Maya," the queen regained her breath to whisper.

The servant held up a hand in a silencing motion. "No, no, my love, I want to help." She straightened, pacing slowly around her mistress. "And I do know of one or two things you might not have thought of."

Terreis glanced at her lover, eyes hard and angry, lips tightly pursed. "Stop this," she growled, not liking very dark turn the conversation was taking.

Maya laughed very softly, pacing around her lover, eyeing the curves visible in the open vee of her robe. "Do you know," she began almost conversationally, though her eyes gleamed with something that sent an unpleasant shiver down Terreis' spine, "that you can get your entire hand inside a woman's body?" A wicked smile curved her lips as Terreis froze before the darkly seductive words, unwanted images searing themselves in her brain. "If you're relaxed, it can be quite pleasant, but if you're tense," she drew a finger down her lover's upper arm, stroking lightly, "it's quite excruciating."

And then the queen did back up a pace, driven back by the wolfish, predatory smile directed her way, feeling vaguely trapped by the smaller woman, shocked beyond measure by what she was hearing. There was nothing of the woman she knew in the look directed her way.

"Of course," Maya continued, "if you like that sort of thing, they say even that can be quite delicious." She laughed softly, the sound setting off prickles at the nape of Terreis' neck. The servant shook her head slowly, mock sympathy in her eyes. "Your little outlander doesn't look the type for those games though." She reached out, drawing her lover's long-boned hand up between them. Terreis could only stare, so shocked, she didn't even resist. "In which case, I'd recommend you tie her to the bed ... or I can help you if you like ... start like you did last night, but don't stop at two ... add a third ... and a fourth ... then your thumb...." As she spoke, she folded each of the queen's fingers down into a fist. "Then thrust." She marked a point well past the taller woman's wrist. "To here." Her smile turned positively vicious. "She'll beg to tell you what she knows."

Throwing off the sick paralysis, Terreis yanked her arm back, shaking her head stiffly, her voice little more than a tight rasp. "No."

"Oh, I think so," Maya disagreed as though she'd misunderstood Terreis' meaning. "You have rather large hands ... and my guess is you could draw blood and screams both--" She smiled, clearly relishing the idea.

"Stop it," the queen hissed, feeling physically ill at the things her lover was saying. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded furiously and pulled back, spinning away momentarily. "Saying these things?" She shook her head. "This isn't you." She turned back to face the smaller woman, struggling to resolve the woman she knew her lover to be with the things she'd just said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You've never taken pleasure in cruelty before ... and there's no need for it. I can protect you without that sort of barbarity ... and if you want to push me away, there are easier ways."

Something glittered in her lover's eyes, and she abruptly spun away, gripping the railing around the balcony once again. "Pushing you away," she repeated almost inaudibly, then turned back, a bitter expression twisting normally soft features. "Would that I could." Then suddenly, she paled, lips moving for a moment, though no sound escaped them. She looked up at Terreis, fear glittering in her eyes for the briefest of moments, then straightened her shoulders, her expression clearing, bitterness turning to apology in an instant. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered quickly, "I-I didn't mean any of it. I don't know what's come over me." Her throat muscles rippled as she swallowed hard, and dark eyes briefly swept away from the queen. "I know you would never...." She trailed off and was silent for a moment before continuing, her eyes fastened submissively on the floor. "I've just heard about all of the things they've done to ... to our people ... the savagery ... and I ... I was angry that you would protect one of them." She risked a look up through thick lashes. "And perhaps afraid of the risk in having her here. If you wish to banish me from your chambers, I'll understand."

Her anger draining away in the face of her handmaid's obvious regret and fear, Terreis relaxed somewhat and released a heavy sigh. "No," she assured the other woman, her voice coming out less certain than she intended. She looked away, reminding herself of their history together, of all the times when Maya had supported her during difficult challenges, offering nothing but kindness and comfort. If she was having a hard time now, it wasn't the time to show an unforgiving stance. "We've all been under considerable stress ... and it keeps coming out in unpredictable and often unpleasant ways." She saw her lover stiffen faintly, clearly understanding the meaning behind the words. She was willing to forgive, yes, but that didn't mean Maya hadn't gone much too far with her words. "But you have nothing to fear. She's chained ... and I've arranged for a guard and a maid to care for her. You need have nothing to do with her. They'll see to her health and make sure she cannot escape. I promise, I won't allow her to harm anyone, but I need her alive to learn what she knows."

Her handmaid nodded, her manner passive and nervous enough that Terreis found herself feeling guilty for her anger. "Again, my apologies, My Liege ... my behavior was unacceptable."

The submissive use of her title only increased the queen's guilt. She'd never wanted that sort of obsequious behavior in or out of bed, and had never allowed it when they were alone together. "No," she disagreed quietly, "but you did go too far ... please don't do so again." She carefully refrained from making it a command, wanting it to be between lovers, not queen and subject.

"Of course not, Highness."

Dark eyes remained downcast, and Terreis reached out to gently stroke a velvety cheek. "There's no need for titles," she whispered, "and no need to worry that I'll banish you. But, please, stop this outrageous behavior. With everything going on, I'm not always going to have time to pander to your worries ... not when so many things are happening. I've always tried to treat you with respect. Try to remember that."

The maid's eyes remained fastened on the floor, but she nodded. "Of course, Highness," she said very softly.

Teeth grating, torn between frustration and guilt, Terreis stroked her lover's cheek, then slid a hand back into her hair, tugging her head up and dropping a soft kiss on her lips. "Try to remember my name by this evening," she chided gently, then backed up a step. "In the meantime, I'm afraid I have several meetings I must attend." She glanced toward the doors into her chambers. "However, since you're so worried about the outlander, you're released from any duties in my quarters for the day." She stroked her lover's temple with her thumb. "Please trust me that I'm doing this for all our sakes. If I can find a way to stop the outlanders, isn't it worth any difficulties?"

She was surprised when brown eyes searched her face for a long moment, then her maid shook her head. "You truly mean that," she said very softly, sounding surprised by the discovery.

"Of course I mean it," Terreis said instantly. "I know this is hard for you ... and frightening, but I cannot simply ignore my responsibilities ... not even for you." She stroked her lover's silken cheek again, wanting to reassure her and offer some measure of comfort. "Now, relax. Take the day off from everything and just look after yourself." Another soft caress followed, then she pulled back. "But I really do need to ready myself ... and speak to the prisoner's guard before I leave."

Maya simply nodded, her expression bland, though it took on an assessing cast as the queen stepped back into her apartments.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ *

Hoping to relieve some of the ache in her wrist caused by the press of sharp steel against the ridge of the bone along the outer edge of her forearm, Janet shifted into a new position. Her shoulder and hip both protested the movement, the bruises acquired from the guards the night before causing a fresh wave of discomfort and setting off a sympathetic throb behind her eyes. "Devil or the deep blue sea," she muttered under her breath, trying to decide which pain was worse. Finally deciding that the answer was the one in her stomach, she pushed up on her elbow, reaching out to empty the last of the water from the jug into the glass Sam had left. Despite the temptations offered by the food, she was well aware that her state of dehydration was far more dangerous than the lack of food. Just managing to down the jug over the course of the night had done wonders for her clarity of thought even though she was still as weak as a day old kitten.

As she sipped the lukewarm water, she scanned the room, her gaze finally coming to a rest on the elegantly clad figure standing just inside the doors to the apartment. Wearing a blue-violet gown trimmed in gold and magenta, Sam stood perfectly straight, a gold and diamond circlet in her hair, looking every inch the queen she claimed to be as she stood speaking to a uniformed guard -- the one who'd been with her in the dungeons, Janet thought, though she wasn't sure -- and a rather pretty young woman who was dressed in a simple brown and grey gown. Maya? No, she didn't think so. Her body language was all wrong, and she kept flashing adoring glances at the guard. Maya -- whoever she was -- wouldn't have taken that risk in front of Sam. Pain rippled through her as she remembered what she'd been an unwilling audience to, but she forced it down. It was a luxury she couldn't afford, not with both of their lives on the line.

As she watched, unable to tell what they were saying at that distance, Janet couldn't help but wonder at her own sanity. There appeared to be no doubt in Sam's mind -- or anyone else's -- just who she was. The doctor would have been convinced she was nuts if not for the memory of the unwanted sexual awareness that had seared the air between them the night before. What were the chances of that sort of intensity existing between herself and a stranger? Almost none, if previous experience was any gauge. Only Sam had ever made her feel that melting, overwhelming desire to completely lose herself in another person, and she was comfortably certain the same was true of the other woman.

And that desire, unleashed by a dangerous mix of emotions had driven Sam until she'd been frighteningly close to doing something completely against her nature. Swallowing hard, Janet felt her pulse accelerate as she remembered those moments when her friend's hands had slid over her body, containing any struggles with ease, then touching with possessive hunger. She'd been frightened, even terrified, but at the same time some part of her hand been certain the other woman wouldn't truly hurt her. The soft words and promises of safety had nearly been her undoing, drawing her in until she was close to breaking down in total surrender. Sam was one of the few people  in her life that she'd always been able to trust and it was hard to resist the need to lean against someone when she was so alone and so beaten down. Then Sam's mood had shifted, anger simmering in her eyes at being refused, her words turning from promises to intimidation. That dark edge had terrified her, leaving her wondering if it really was a Goa'uld trying to trick her. The only thing that gave Janet any comfort was the fact that the other woman hadn't been able to follow through on the threats to send her back to the dungeons or hand her over for torture.

She didn't want to think about what had happened then -- Sam and the other woman -- it hurt too much.

Then later, when the blonde had woken Janet from the sleep she'd used to escape the sounds of lovemaking that were like knives on her flesh, there'd been something else in familiar blue eyes; pity, and something else sad and regretful, as though she sensed the wrongness of it all, but couldn't quite see the truth. She'd thought about trying to reach the woman she believed was still hidden in there, only to back off, remembering the anger and afraid of triggering it once again. Until she had a better idea of what was going on and could be certain it wasn't a Goa'uld trick, she couldn't risk exposing her knowledge. Better to let them wonder what she knew. Besides, even it it was still Sam, brainwashed as she was, it was just too dangerous to challenge her when she had that much power, and that much rage directed anyone she perceived as her enemy. A divide Janet, unfortunately, found herself on the wrong side of. Though Sam had been oddly eager to believe she'd been forced into whatever hideous acts she'd  supposedly committed, there was no guarantee that would last. Sam had been too erratic for her to rely on anything. Janet stared at the woman she'd come to trust as she had no one else in her life in an effort to resolve everything she knew into some kind of coherent picture, but it just didn't make sense.

As if sensing she was the subject of her prisoner's thoughts, the blonde turned abruptly, her gaze sweeping the room until it clashed with Janet's. A hint of a frown creased her brow, then she waved for the guard and the woman to follow her as she made a beeline toward the servant's pallet. She didn't bother to see if her servants followed, clearly confident that her word would be obeyed. And it was, Janet noted. Understandable. She couldn't even look away from the intense gaze directed her way.

"I'll see to it that more food and drink are delivered," Sam said as she drew close and her eyes fell on the empty pitchers and nearly denuded tray.

Peering up into blue eyes, Janet swallowed hard as she fought the urge to grab the other woman and shake her, scream at her, beat on her, anything to force her to acknowledge who she really was, and who she really loved.

Now, there was an idea almost guaranteed to get her tossed back in the dungeons or handed over to the interrogators. Whoever, or whatever this woman was, she and everyone around her apparently believed her to be a queen, one with near absolute power by the look of it. So much for democratic ideals. Pushed too hard, the doctor had no doubt, she could lose control -- she'd come close enough the night before -- and if that happened, Janet was well aware that she would be the one to pay the price. "Thank you," she exhaled at last, opting to stick with an attitude of cooperation.

Icy blue eyes remained focused on Janet, the slight tilt of a dark blonde brow indicating that Sam wasn't buying the submissive act. "Keeping you alive is in the interest of my people," she said, pointedly putting it on an impersonal footing.

Janet didn't respond, simply dropped her eyes, staring at her chained wrist as though it might answer the questions burning through her brain.

"And in that interest," Sam continued when her prisoner didn't respond, "I've assigned Rubio," she nodded to indicate the guard, "and his wife, Elyana to see to both your safety and your continued ... presence."

An auburn brow rose in sarcastic arch. "Because I'm likely to run so far in my current condition," Janet muttered under her breath, unable to quite contain a caustic response. She continued to glare at the heavy manacle as she fought a dangerous flow anger, well aware that she couldn't afford to let emotion rule her actions, but hard pressed to control herself.

"You might well," Sam murmured, her voice dropping low, her tone strangely intimate as she laid gentle fingers along the curve of Janet's jaw, drawing her head back up and holding her gaze. "I suspect I'd be a fool to underestimate your determination." Her tone hardened fractionally. "And I've seldom been counted a fool."

Fighting the mesmerizing impact of the look directed her way, Janet flicked a look sideways, tension running through her as she spotted a slender figure watching them from a doorway that appeared to lead to an outdoor balcony. Small and slightly built, with dark eyes and almost waist-length black hair, she had to be Maya. Janet was certain of it. As their gazes locked for the briefest second, a shiver of apprehension slid down the doctor's spine at the cold-blooded, assessing look she glimpsed before it was hidden behind an impassive wall. Then the fingers on her jaw slid under the ridge of bone with added pressure, forcing her attention back to Sam. Vivid blue eyes locked with brown, holding Janet prisoner even as that fine-boned hand gentled and trailed up over the rounded curve of her cheek, stroking possessively. "Remember that cooperation is in your best interests."

The anger coiling dangerously tight, ready to explode despite her best efforts, Janet clenched her hands tighter, barely resisting the urge to do something very stupid and demand to know how Sam could do that to her. In all the years since they'd recognized their feelings for each other, they'd both held off from any other serious relationships, too afraid of hurting one another to take even that comfort. Some part of her was furious with her friend for not somehow knowing it was all wrong. "And you care so much about my interests," she whispered very softly, unable to contain the bitterness.

Sam's head canted to one side as she considered the comment for a moment before answering. "You are my prisoner." As if she couldn't quite control the urge to touch further, her fingers danced back into the baby-fine hair at Janet's temple. "That makes you my responsibility."

"Responsibility or property?" Janet challenged and yanked her head back in an effort to break the tenuous contact, resentful of the possessive manhandling, but also dangerously aware of the temptation to simply trust that it really was Sam, and she would be safe in her care.

Her fingers still tangled loosely in auburn hair, Sam worked them deeper into the fine strands in reaction to the defiance, tightening her grip just enough to keep Janet from shaking her hand off. "Both," she said softly, her thumb stroking her prisoner's temple lightly. "Now, be a good girl, and do as you're told." Her fingers tightened another fraction, just enough to demonstrate her power without causing actual pain. "And don't make me force you to my hand."

A muscle pulled convulsively along the curve of Janet's jaw, but she managed to restrain the sharp words on the edge of her tongue. No matter the situation or who was doing it, it wasn't in her to gracefully handle that kind of treatment.

"Better," the Sam who wasn't Sam murmured, well aware of her prisoner's barely suppressed anger. She glanced back at Rubio and Elyana. "I have meetings to attend all day, but I want you to contact me if she gives you any trouble. In the meantime, you have permission to deal with her as need be." The look she directed toward the young guard was hard, silently reminding him of the reward she'd promised. "And I want to be completely apprized of her behavior this evening."

"Yes, My Queen," he said quickly, his chin ducking in automatic acknowledgment. "We will, of course, do our best to live up to your expectations."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," she assured him, then looked back at Janet. "And you ... remember that I value those who serve me."

Janet had to fight a sudden, hysterical burst of laughter that threatened to bubble up. With no other response, she simply shrugged.

"When I return this evening, I expect to hear how cooperative you've been," Sam said, still fingering silky hair very lightly.

Another silent, resentful shrug was the only response. Finally, Sam had little choice but to release her loose hold and pull her hand back.

The instant she regained that small measure of freedom, Janet yanked her head back, glaring defiantly. She was surprised when the faintest hint of a smile touched Sam's mouth.

"Rubio ... Elyana," the blonde murmured, then turned away. She froze as her eyes fell on Maya where she stood watching.

As Janet watched the dark haired woman's bland look wavered slightly, something much darker glimmering there before she managed to hide it once again.

"Maya," Sam said, her tone vaguely placating as she waved for the smaller woman to join her. She reached into a pocket, drawing out a jangling coin purse of some kind, which she offered. "The markets are open today. Enjoy yourself ... buy something pretty ... then feel free to spend the rest of the day in the gardens." She stroked Maya's cheek very lightly, though as her fingers contacted soft skin, she flicked a glance back toward the silently watching servants and prisoner out of the corner of her eye. The odd tableau lasted only a second or two, and then she tugged Maya out with her as she left in a hurry.

Janet stared after the two women, her shoulders suddenly slumping with exhaustion, tears threatening to burn her eyes and clog her throat. Teeth gritted, eyes tightly shut, she fought the sudden surge of emotion, completely forgetting that she wasn't alone.

"I'll ... uh ... see to the food our queen ordered," a woman's voice, soft and faintly shy sounding, broke in on Janet's agony. Dark eyes slid open as the young woman Sam had introduced as Elyana backed up a step, a frown darkening her expression. She glanced at her husband a little uncertainly. "And also some additional clothes ... a nightgown and a dress at least."

He nodded, and she hurried out, all but fleeing the room.

Rubio looked at Janet, his head canting to one side as he considered her. He nodded in the direction Elyana had disappeared. "She has a soft heart," he said very softly, his body language that of a protective husband worried for his wife, rather than a member of the queen's guard.

The doctor simply tipped her head back on her shoulders, heaving an exhausted sigh. "You needn't worry," she said softly. "Whatever the accusations, I'm no danger to anyone." A few tears she couldn't quite control leaked back into her hair, and she dashed them away with her free hand.

A moment passed, then the guard cleared his voice. "Our queen is a just woman. She has no desire to harm you," he offered by way of comfort.

"I know," Janet whispered, her voice broken by ragged gasps. "But that doesn't mean she won't anyway."

He had nothing to say to that, so he simply stood there, hands folded together at the small of his back until his wife returned, several articles of clothing thrown over one shoulder, a tray of food and drink balanced between her hands.

The young woman ducked in a tiny curtsy as she set the tray down on the table near Janet's bed. Blue eyes rose from the table and she carefully studied what she could see of the doctor's too-thin frame, her expression sympathetic. "My Lady," she said formally, "my name is Elyana, and I'm here to help you in any way you need."

Janet frowned, blinking as if to clear her vision while she tried to decide if she'd heard right. Several acid replies danced on the tip of her tongue only to dry up in response to the earnest look in the young woman's eyes. The kindness was nearly her undoing after everything that had happened, and she shaded her face with her hand, needing a moment to gather herself together.

"It will be all right," the young woman soothed.

Which only made not falling apart that much harder. The hand caught in the manacle tightened into a white knuckled fist as she fought the surge of emotion she'd somehow been able to contain in Sam's presence. "How?" she choked at last, unable to see any solution.

"In the short time we've served in the royal palace, the queen has proven herself a kind and just woman," Rubio spoke up. Never one to enjoy a woman's pain, he couldn't help but flinch over the obvious distress felt by the prisoner, even if he knew from his queen that she was part of an effort to attack his people. He'd never really thought about royalty before receiving the commission -- not beyond considering them generally useless -- but he'd seen how she was driving herself to try and repair things and protect everyone, not just the rich and powerful. "I'm certain she'll treat you fairly if you do as she wishes."

A tiny, half hysterical laugh escaped the doctor's lips, hopelessness momentarily threatening to overcome her. "Except I can't." She ran her free hand through her hair, pulling it back from her face and shaking her head, her gaze unfocused.

A long moment passed. Husband and wife traded looks, and finally, Elyana reached for the glass on the table and began filling it from the pitcher. "Perhaps you should eat now," she suggested tactfully.

Swallowing hard in an effort to force down some of the overwhelming emotion, well aware that she wasn't thinking clearly, Janet nodded. "Thank you," she said very softly, appreciating the kindness more than she knew how to say.

With little more to say, she ate in silence, then collapsed back into the mattress and was asleep in moments, still too weak to remain conscious for long at a time.

Part 5