A/N: This is my first Brittana fanfic. It's one of the story arcs I have for a book I've been writing since high school. Sadly, it's still a 300+page-WIP until now (8 years later). Enjoy!

Santana nocked an arrow into her bow, as the huge buck stopped in its tracks, sniffing the air. This was her chance. She had been very careful not to wonder downwind where the deer might catch her scent, and now, after tracking it for three days she finally had it where she wanted.

She took a deep breath, forcing some calm into her hands which were trembling slightly, and tugged harder at her bowstring. She released it, the flight of the arrow emitting a satisfying whoosh!, and Santana smugly smiled.

However, before the arrow could find its mark, the deer bolted.

"Fuck!" she yelled in frustration, as the arrowhead buried itself in the trunk of a tree where the deer was seconds before. She looked around for the source of the disturbance when she saw a young woman running into the same direction as the deer. "May God strike you dead, you lit—"

The curse died on her lips when she noticed that the woman is not another hunter after her quarry, as she'd earlier suspected. The first thing she noticed, when her rage at losing her quarry dissipated somewhat, was the brand on the woman's shoulder. The brand resembled some sort of crest that she did not recognize—Santana deduced that she had to be a serf of some sort. She looked exhausted, and yet she kept on running, and Santana wondered what she's running from. She kept low, watching the woman through the gaps in the trees.

Thunderous hooves alerted her to the two men on horseback, hot on the woman's trail. The distance between them is closing, and Santana knows that nothing good would befall the woman should they catch up to her. She had to think fast, but she crouched, rooted to her spot behind a particularly large tree trunk, clutching her bow.

One of the men shouted something, and the woman risked a glance behind her in alarm, and Santana gasped at how beautiful she was despite the panicked expression on her face. She felt a surge of protectiveness over the woman, and she stood up on shaky legs, mind whirring frantically, thinking of what she could do. But then again, peasants like her had no business meddling in the affairs of masters and their slaves. And the woman was clearly a slave. A slave who somehow managed to escape.

She knows what kind of punishment awaits the woman. One she could not bear thinking about. No, it would do her no good to try and change what will inevitably happen. She listened intently, waiting for the sounds of pursuit to fade away in the distance so it wouldn't be her problem anymore.

But a scream—high-pitched and frantic—crumbled her resolve, and she broke into a run, without any inkling on what she might do. She just has to save the woman.

She was so intent in her goal that she did not see a gnarled root sticking out of the ground and blocking her path. With a strangled cry, she went flying, frantic screams of the woman ringing in her ears. She held out a hand to break her fall, to no avail, and all the wind was knocked out of her when she slammed into the ground chest-first.

She picked herself up gingerly, clutching at her side, trying to regain her breath while her head spun. She spotted her bow lying a short distance away, and she limped towards it, thankful that it did not snap in half.

Muffled screams brought her back. The sound of pursuit was thoroughly gone now, and with a pang of dread, she knew they had caught up to her. Nocking another arrow into her bow, she set off into the direction of the screams as fast as her limp would allow her.

Santana came into a clearing and spotted one of the men ripping off the woman's tunic, exposing her breasts, while holding a meaty hand to her mouth. She was trying vainly to fight him off, but the other man dug the pointy end of his sword upon her neck. Santana was near enough to see a trickle of blood oozing out of her neck, and hear her whimpers which the hand failed to muffle. Her heart began thudding wildly in her chest.

She shook with rage at what they were about to do and she raised her bow, eyes. She calmed herself so her hands would stop shaking and she'd be able to hit her target. She closed her eyes for a second, and opened them again, aiming for the man holding the sword, and releasing the string shortly after.

The arrow got him in the neck, and he fell with a cry.

The one holding the woman turned to look at his fallen comrade, and Santana wasted no time in sending one of her knives on its merry way into his back. He fell, and Santana broke into a run towards the woman, who looked dazed with a mixture of relief and horror as she stared at the bleeding, writhing men on the ground.

"A-are you alright?" she panted, as a particularly-sharp pain lanced into her side. God, I must've broken something.

The woman blinked at her and scrambled to cover herself up with the tatters of her clothing. Her blue eyes flicked to something behind Santana and they widened in alarm just as Santana felt something grab her leg and she came crashing down for the second time.

Before she had time to comprehend what had happened to her, one of the men was upon her, and his fist came barrelling down into her face. She tasted blood and blacked out for a second, and regained consciousness as his fist came crashing down again. He was yelling something, which Santana was too dizzy to comprehend, showering her face with a mixture of blood and spit. Santana fought to keep conscious as she inched her hand, which was trapped between them, into her belt, where she kept her arsenal of bladed weapons. But before she could draw one, the blows abruptly stopped.

The man was passed out on top of her, and she rolled him off. She got up, spat on the ground before she choked on her own blood.

"Are you alright?" she heard a timid voice ask her. She turned to look up at the young woman, holding a small bloodied rock apologetically. "Teeth intact?"

Her reply was caught in her throat when she saw how beautiful the woman really was. Her eyes were as blue as the sky, and Santana felt she could get lost with them. She could not reconcile the fact that this woman is a slave—a slave she had risked her life for. Looking at her, Santana knows it's worth it.

With a jolt, she remembered that she was asked a question, and she felt her tongue around her mouth, looking for gaps. She found none. She shook her head, suddenly unable to talk.

"I—I was afraid, he got you bad there," the woman said, looking teary-eyed with relief.

Then she noticed her state of undress and she felt heat creeping up her cheeks. Good thing with her complexion, the other woman would not notice her blush. "I'm fine, don't mind me. Uh, h-here."

She held out her cloak after unclasping it off one shoulder and the woman covered herself up gratefully.

"Th-thank you... for everything. I didn't expect... I, uh, I thought I was all alone, I thought they were going to get me for sure and...," her voice trailed off. "Thank you."

"It's n-nothing," Santana answered, wincing as the woman suddenly enveloped her in a hug. Her side hurt real badly. If she had doubts that she had broken something before, well, all of that was gone now. "I wouldn't be able to live with it had I not tried and save you."

"I couldn't thank you enough." She let go of Santana. "I'm Brittany."

TBC.

This fic is unBeta'ed. Apologies for any grammatical errors/typos(English is not my first language). Thanks for reading! Please review! *smile*