"Fall back. Fall back!"

"We can finish this!"

"Fall back! That's an order!"

"You're not my superior!" a female voice rumbled from beneath a steel helmet as she continued to fight her way through the carnage. "And if we fall back now, they follow us in!"

A blow to the ribs made the woman grunt, and she turned, executing a perfect defense that left her opponent on the ground.

"I'm falling back!" the first voice yelled over the din of clashing metal.

"No you're not! Don't be a fucking coward!" the woman yelled back.

There didn't seem to be an end in sight but she'd be damned if she was going to give up. Not a chance.

The battle waged on for hours, but finally the opposition suffered too many losses to continue, and they retreated over the hills.

--

"I'm fine. Worry about the ones who can't tell you that," the dark-haired woman tried to refuse treatment.

"Sara, we have. You're the only one still in your armor. Get it off so I can see the damage."

"It feels like a broken rib," Sara said after she looked around and confirmed that everyone else had indeed been treated. She nodded to the medic's assistants, and they moved forward to begin slowly divesting her of her armor.

When she was down to her underclothes, the doors opened and the king's daughter swept into the room. Sara grabbed the closest sheet to cover herself with, but the princess wasn't even looking.

Catherine took swift and graceful steps toward the medic, her blonde curls bouncing across her shoulders and down her back. Eyes the color of the ocean finally fell on Sara, and the princess's almost-smile turned into a disapproving frown. "I don't know why my father lets you in his army," she said, crossing her arms in front of her. "It's brutish."

Sara was used to this treatment, and responded as she always did. "I fight as well as any man in this Kingdom. Why shouldn't he want me at his defense?"

As always, Albert sensed a storm brewing and winced when Sara omitted the princess's title. "What can I do for you, your Highness?" he asked.

Catherine ignored him, still focused on Sara. "You should be in my court if you want to serve in the castle, not dressed as a man, fighting like a man, acting like a man."

"Are you afraid I'll ask your hand in marriage like a man?" Sara taunted, just to rile Catherine up.

The princess bristled at the absurd suggestion and deigned to answer Albert's question instead. Turning to the pleasantly robust man, she held out her hand. "I'd like a poultice, please."

"Of course, your Highness," Albert said with a bow, and set to making one for her.

"What do you need a poultice for, a broken fingernail?" Sara asked.

"Hold your tongue!" Catherine snapped sharply. She snatched the poultice from Albert and strode from the room, slamming the doors behind her.

Albert spun on Sara, taking the sheet away to examine her injuries. "Why do you bait her?"

"Because she deserves it, and because no one else will."

"She's the princess. You could be arrested."

Sara snorted with laughter at that. "The king encurages it. He tells me she's not challenged nearly enough and to do so whenever possible."

Albert shook his finger at her and began his examination. "He does not."

"He d-- aaah, careful on the ribs, Albert!" Her focus was pulled from their argument as the medic palpated her ribcage, sending a shooting arc of pain through her torso.

"Pardon me. You were acting so... brutish, was it? Yes, brutish. So brutish that I figured you could take this like a man," Albert said with obvious sarcasm.

"Very-- ahh-- funny," Sara said with just as much sarcasm. "Was I right? It's broken?"

"Oh yes," Albert replied. "Two of them are cracked. Not badly, but you should rest for a few days at the least. Do I have your word on that or do I need to inform the king of my orders?"

"If you tell the king anything I'll have your head," Sara answered immediately, eyes wide in warning.

"Then I'd better not see you out and about for the next two days," Albert replied seriously.

--

"I'm not in love with you."

"I know..." Sara said, head tilted to the side. Where was Sam going with this?

"You're not in love with me."

"I know..."

"This is more of a business partnership than anything else."

"Yes."

The king turned from the window and walked to the bed, where his wounded mistress lay in her nightgown. "I've asked Lily's hand in marriage."

So that was the reason for the strange conversation. Sara couldn't say she was surprised. She forced a smile for him. True, she wasn't in love with him, but here was the end of something she'd grown quite accustomed to over the past year. "Congratulations, your Highness. You deserve a devoted wife."

"You still don't need to call me 'your Highness', Sara," Sam said quietly, moving onto his knees between his mistress's ankles. He gently eased her legs apart and lifted her nightgown, unsurprised when he found her without underclothes.

Sara sighed and relaxed into him, doing her best to just enjoy him, even though it was probably the last time. She was unconcerned at the pain in her ribs now, though it hurt agonizingly when she thrust her hips up to meet him.

When they had finished, Sam dressed and sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped and resting on his knees. "I still expect you to give my daughter hell at every opportunity..."

"With pleasure," Sara replied, though her voice lacked its usual enthusiasm at the prospect of irritating the princess.

"You don't sound pleased," Sam noted.

"I am. My ribs hurt," Sara explained. That wasn't her problem, but it was true nonetheless. "You know I'm always pleased at the thought of tormenting your daughter."

"I wish she'd spend more time in your company. You'd be a good influence."

"Thank you, Sam," Sara said, looking over at him in surprise. They just looked at each other in silence for a few moments before Sara spoke again. "Would you mind bringing me something to wear back to my room? I should get going, and leaving your room in my nightgown would cause quite an uproar, I'm sure."

"Of course," Sam nodded, wishing things could be different for them. He found some clean clothes for Sara and she dressed and left him with a kiss.

--

The next afternoon, Sara was sitting in the courtyard reading a book of poetry when her sunlight was suddenly blocked. She glanced up to see Catherine looking smug.

"I don't know why you're still living here now that my father won't have you anymore. Isn't it just unbearable to see him with my mother?"

The little tart... Sara was not going to rise to the bait. Her jaw worked a few times before she finally just said, "I'm happy for him. He deserves a good wife."

"Well it's a good thing he didn't ask you to marry him then, isn't it?"

"Yes," Sara agreed, refusing to engage Catherine this morning. She was still dealing with the change her life was taking.

"He never would have asked you."

"Did you come all the way out here just to provoke me, or were you just passing through and couldn't resist?" Sara asked, and then turned her attention back to her book.

"I'm royalty, unlike yourself, which means you do not have the liberty to ignore me," Catherine proclaimed, grabbing Sara's book and snapping it shut.

Sara made a quick lunge for the book but stopped at the sharp, shooting pain through her ribcage and sat back down with a hiss.

Catherine grinned and dropped the book on the ground at Sara's feet. "That's right, you're injured. You have no business on the battlefield."

"I'm the best in your father's army," sara informed her, leaning down carefully to pick up her book. "You're alive because of me, remember? Or have you chosen to forget? What bothers you more... the fact that I saved your life or the fact that I've been in your father's b ed for the past year instead of your mother?"

Catherine's eyes blazed and she stepped forward, slapping Sara clean across the face.

Sara didn't even flinch, or give Catherine the satisfaction of rubbing her cheek afterward. She just let it sting, and forced a smirk. "Both, then. I see. Run along and play now dear. Your friends are waiting." She nodded toward a group of peasant girls standing a ways off, watching her and the princess.

"They are not my friends," Catherine said with narrowed eyes.

"Of course not. You would never stoop so low as to get to know anyone that's not just like you. Which is why you spend your time alone or taunting me. Because there's no one in this Kingdom as spoiled rotten as you are."

Catherine's cheeks flushed bright red and she turned and walked away, and normally Sara would have gotten a wicked thrill, but today she was just glad that the princess was leaving. She didn't feel like bickering at the moment - she might end up hitting Catherine and she didn't know if that would be sanctioned by the king.

--

The wedding was beautiful and Sara sat in the front. Though it was reserved for family only, Sam had wanted her there, and she had wanted to be there. She gave Lily her blessing, and her assurance that she and Sam had indeed cut things off upon announcement of the engagement.

Things actually hadn't changed for Sara as much as she'd been afraid they would. She still retained all the privileges of being the king's mistress even though they no longer slept together. She still ranked as high in his army as she had before, she kept her living accommodations which were exponentially nicer than that of the common soldier. She was still allowed access to any part of the castle she wished, and she still dined with the family.

The only real difference was nights spent alone instead of in the king's company. That did take some getting used to, but the adjustment happened fairly quickly.

During the reception, Catherine walked over to whisper in Sara's ear. "They all know," she said smugly.

"Be quiet, we're at a wedding," Sara shot back.

Catherine frowned, not having expected that response. "You don't want to know what it is that they all know?"

"No," Sara answered. "By the way, there was an exemplary young gentleman trying to catch your attention, but when he realized you were so interested in *me*, he found another woman to dance with."

Catherine's eyes narrowed. "If my father heard the way you speak to me..."

Sara laughed. "He encourages it, little Princess. Where do you think I get half of my ammunition?"

The princess's narrowed eyes narrowed even further, to two ice-blue slits. "Not anymore, now that he's kicked you out of his bed."

Sara chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. "You're so childish. Leave me now, I'd like to enjoy the celebration."

In an even more childish move, Catherine stepped forward and shoved Sara, hard, sending her sprawling backwards on her ass.

Sara had just about had *enough*, and she was about to teach Catherine a lesson, but thankfully Sam stepped in, helping Sara to her feet and scolding his daughter.

"Catherine! You will not behave in such a manner at my wedding! Apologize this instant."

Catherine refused to apologize, and turned away instead, walking back toward the castle.

Sara had never seen Sam look so angry with his daughter. "It's all right, I'm quite used to it," she said with a laugh, dusting off the back of her pants. "She's done worse."

"Why haven't you dealt with it?"

"Because I'm not her mother. I don't have the authority, Sam."

"Well as of now you do. By order of the king, you need not put up with such rubbish from my daughter. Now please go handle the problem, I do not wish to have to leave my own wedding to deal with her."

Sara nodded, throwing in a small bow since they were in public, and then set off slowly after Catherine. She stopped halfway back to the castle when nature called, and the princess was out of sight when she resumed the journey. She was in a little bit of disbelief at having been given permission to strike the king's daughter. It wasn't a bad sort of disbelief, however. Quite the opposite. She'd show Catherine not to mess with her, finally.

Screams in the distance perked her ears and unsettled her stomach, and she broke into a run back toward the castle.

She was too late. Several soldiers lay in the entrance to the courtyard, pierced by arrows. Several more were scattered around the courtyard itself, and the princess was nowhere to be seen.

"What happened?" she asked Sir Nicholas, who was kneeling beside a fallen comrade, whispering something Sara couldn't hear.

"They took the princess, we couldn't stop them," Sir Nicholas said, stone-faced as he stood up.

"Who?"

"We don't know. We've never seen the likes of them before. Shall I ride to inform the king?"

"Yes. I'll start tracking their trail."

"You'll need a hundred men," Nicholas said, shaking his head.

"You obviously don't realize how angry I am," Sara said with a sneer. "All I'll need is my bare hands if they've hurt a hair on her head." At his curious look, she quickly added, "that's *my* job."

Nick chuckled knowingly - the entire order was aware of Sara's strained, often volatile relationship with the princess. "Good luck. I'm sure the king will send reinforcements anyway, when I reach him."

Sara nodded and hurried off to get into her armor and outfit her horse.

--

The trail was easy to pick up, but the tracks showed incredibly fast movement that Sara was hard-pressed to keep up with. Her ribs had almost healed, but still gave her a bit of trouble when she rode. And right now, riding was the only option if she wanted to catch up with whoever took Catherine.

She rode hard, stopping only if she had to get down and look for the trail, and it soon became apparent that she was headed for the neighboring kingdom to the east, with whom they had always been on good terms. What made them change their minds? What made them attack the castle and kidnap the princess? Perhaps it was a rogue army and not the monarchy. That suited her better, but then again, with rogues came an unpredictability that was more dangerous than anything else.

Late into the night, Sara finally spied movement in the distance, and she slowed her horse to a stop and let him graze as she hopped off, thinking it best to go the rest of the way on foot. Much quieter and easier to hide.

As she got closer she confirmed the fact that it was indeed a group of rogues, and they did indeed have Catherine. She was chained to a chair, and Sara chuckled quietly at the makeshift gag in her mouth. She could only *imagine* what Catherine had been saying to the bastards to get them to do that. She stopped laughing when she noticed the blood dripping down the side of the princess's face, and her hands clenched into fists, her heart rate increasing, pulse pounding angrily through her veins. She couldn't possibly take on the whole rebel faction by herself, but if reinforcements didn't follow her soon, she'd have to do something. Maybe she could set up some kind of distraction to pull some of them away, and then deal with the rest and sneak Catherine out of there.

However, when one of the men stepped up to the princess and started fumbling with his pants, Sara realized there was no time for plans. She pulled her weapon and charged him, because she'd rather die than let *that* happen. She ran him through, and was running on pure rage and adrenaline, refusing to let any of them get through her to Catherine.

The fight was over before she even realized the reinforcements had arrived, and neither she nor Catherine were gravely injured. In fact, as she smashed open the chains binding the princess, she noticed that the blood dripping down the side of Catherine's face wasn't hers. She wasn't wounded - she must have wounded someone else or come into contact with someone else's wound and the blood got transferred.

As soon as the chains released her, Catherine stood up and ripped the gag out of her mouth. "What took you so long?" she snapped. "I'm starving."

Sara stared in shock, but then wondered why she'd expected any different. After all, she had saved Catherine's life once before and gotten the same reaction. "We just saved your life," she said, only then realizing that her ribs hurt like hell. The adrenaline must be wearing off.

"Oh please," Catherine rolled her eyes. "They were just about to feed me."

"I saw what they were about to feed you," Sara said darkly, and only her trained eye allowed her to notice the shiver that ran through the princess's body at her words. She was more affected than she let on.

"Just get me home and get me something decent to eat."

"Why don't you ride with Sir Nicholas," Sara suggested. She didn't want to ride all the way back with a whiny, bitchy princess.

"Or I could just take your horse and you can ride with Nick," Catherine volleyed.

"Or, you can get your stubborn ass onto Sir Nicholas's horse before I decide that you're walking back to the castle. It's a day's ride, I can't imagine how long it would take you to walk." And before Catherine had a chance to come back with another witty, scathing retort, Sara turned and walked away, back in the direction of her horse.

Unfortunately, Catherine followed her. "I don't want to ride with Nick," she explained.

Sara stopped about ten feet from her horse and spun around. "You'll do as you're told!" she shouted, but quickly realized that it was too late, that Nicholas and the others had already taken off at a run back toward the castle. They were alone, and her only option was to allow Catherine to ride with her. She laboriously stripped out of her armor and placed it into the saddlebags, leaving her in an undershirt and a pair of pants. Then they were off.

--

About three hours into the ride, Sara stopped to let their horse rest and get some water from a small brook off the main path. There were some berry bushes, so she gathered two handfuls and brought them to Catherine, who was seated against a tree with her eyes closed. For once, the blonde just took the offered assistance without comment. Sara supposed she was too hungry to argue. She went back and got herself some berries, and two more handfuls for Catherine after that. They both drank some water, Catherine washed the blood from her head, and then they got back on the road.

Not ten minutes later, Catherine started to squirm around in the saddle. "What?" Sara asked, turning her head to look at the princess.

"I'm tired of riding."

"Would you prefer to walk?"

"I'd prefer a cart so I could get some sleep," the cranky blonde retorted.

"Stop complaining. I'm uncomfortable too, but it is what it is," Sara said practically. "There's nothing we can do about it right now, and whining isn't going to help."

"You're just upset that you haven't been *serviced* in over a week."

"I could say the same for you. I doubt you've been *serviced* in your lifetime. No one would put up with your attitude."

"It's not an attitude. I just don't like you," Catherine said smugly. "When are you moving out of the castle?"

"I'm not."

"My father's going to get tired of having you around soon enough. You might as well start packing."

"Your father and I are friends, Catherine. I don't know what I did to make you dislike me so much... Your father was not with your mother at the time we began to share a bed."

"No, he wasn't, because of people like you," Catherine said icily. "Throwing yourself at him so you could be Queen someday. Too bad he never saw you as anything more than a cheap whore."

"Is that what you think? I never wanted to be Queen," Sara said with a frown. "I still don't. I'd hate it. But I'm sure you'll make a great one someday."

"And now you're kissing my ass, because you aren't good enough to kiss my father's anymore," Catherine laughed. "Just shut up."

Now that was *it*. Sara stopped the horse and slid off, hauling Catherine down after her. She dragged the princess a short way into the woods and sat on a fallen tree, placing the struggling blonde across her lap and lifting her dress. She threw one leg over Catherine's to stop her kicking, and wrapped her left arm around the princess's midsection to stop her squirming away. And she proceeded to teach her a lesson she wouldn't soon forget.

"Stop it! Stop it! Let GO of me!" Catherine growled, pounding her fists against any part of Sara she could reach. "My father is going to hear about this as soon as we get back!"

Sara ignored the punches, focusing instead on getting her point across through Catherine's reddening backside. "I don't know what I've done to make you hate me so strongly, but even if I have done something, the way you treat me is completely unacceptable and it stops here and now, do you understand me?"

"Let me UP!" was Catherine's reply, her struggles increasing, the punches starting to bruise Sara's arm and side. She spied a small branch on the ground and leaned over to pick it up, lowering the blonde's undergarments and swishing it across Catherine's behind with a flick of her wrist.

The princess screamed, and immediately stopped struggling and punching Sara. But the switch landed again anyway. Sara wasn't finished. "Every time you say something negative about me, it hurts. I don't know why I care, but I do. I'm tired of being hurt by you, Catherine, and I won't stand for it anymore. Not ever again, is that clear?" The switch fell several more times, welts rising in parallel lines over Catherine's creamy white skin.

"Yes, YES!" the princess cried, in tears now, laying limply across Sara's lap. The fight had left her.

"You owe me about a thousand apologies," Sara continued, swishing the branch several more times, sending Catherine into a round of more anguished tears.

"I'm sorry!" Catherine cried, clutching Sara's waist tightly. "I'm sorry! A thousand times I'm sorry!" she bawled.

Sara finally put the switch down and gave Catherine a few more spanks with her hand for good measure, only briefly enjoying the feel of having her hand on the princess's bare behind. "It ends here, Catherine, I mean it," she warned, though she had a feeling the princess knew she was serious, and would be reminded of that fact every time she sat down for the next few days. Not to mention the rest of the ride back to the castle.

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry!" Catherine said hoarsely, the tears still falling, still holding tight to Sara's waist. "Please, no more... I'll be good, Sara..."

"I hope so, because I'm sick of this. I don't deserve it. I'm a person, with feelings, just like everyone else, and when you constantly tell me what a failure I am, I start to wonder if maybe it's true. And even though we're not friends, it still breaks my heart to be ridiculed every single day. I'm not a failure, Catherine, and I'm done allowing you to make me feel like one. Now get up and sort yourself out. I need a minute alone, and then we'll get going again." She released her hold on the princess and watched as she scrambled to her feet and pulled up her undergarments, with a pained wince as they settled over her backside.

--

Sara knew Catherine had cried a few more times on the way back, mostly when the horse was slowing from a run or building up to one - the trotting had to be hell on her behind. She had a brief pang of guilt each time, but mostly it just felt good. It had been a long time coming, and Catherine had deserved it, for all the awful things she'd said and done over the past year or two.

As the castle came into view, Sara felt tentative hands on her waist and a forehead against her back. "Thank you. For saving me from those men. I know what they were going to do... so... thank you, Sara."

Stunned beyond belief, Sara could only nod. "You're welcome. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." When they reached the castle and the drawbridge began to lower, she spoke again. "Shall I take you straight to your father? I believe you said you wished to report my actions as soon as we got back."

Catherine was quiet for a few seconds, and Sara quirked an eyebrow, wondering if she was being ignored or if Catherine was thinking, and she was about to ask again when the princess spoke. "I'd rather visit Sir Albert, if you don't mind."

Sara didn't even have to turn around to know Catherine was blushing - her tone of voice said that clear enough. "And what if I do mind? You earned every one of those licks, Catherine."

A long, slow breath was let out behind her and then Catherine said quietly, "yes Ma'am."

Sara nearly fell off the horse. And was it wrong that hearing that sent a shiver of excitement through her body? Yes, it was probably very wrong. "Where else would you like to go?"

"My room, please."

Wow. Please and thank-you and Ma'am... who would've thought? She should have given Catherine a switching long ago.

They rode through the inner courtyard to many cheers and much applause, and Sara stopped the horse as close to Catherine's room as they could get. Catherine hopped down and stared up at Sara for a brief moment before she gave her a curtsey and disappeared up a set of stone stairs.

Still in a bit of shock, or at the very least, extreme surprise, Sara rode to the stables and dismounted, leaving her horse with the stablehand, and then headed to see Albert. She was a bit banged up, had a few scrapes that needed cleaning, but all in all she was pretty well off considering she'd just been in a battle with rogue troops. Not a huge battle, but still a battle, and she was barely scratched.

Albert was just fussing over her and making her take her pants off when the princess wandered through the door, and Sara yanked her pants back up like they were on fire, and then gave Catherine a questioning look.

Catherine blushed and looked away until Sara was properly dressed, and then held up her hand for the brunette to see. "I cut myself, that's all."

The fact that the princess was explaining herself to her made Sara swell with... something. Not pride, really, or ego, just... warmth. And suddenly she wanted to see her handywork, and wouldn't mind Albert and his assistants seeing it either. She motioned Catherine closer and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I changed my mind, if you want to see Sir Albert about your backside."

Catherine's face flushed subtly, and Sara resisted the urge to kiss her cheek as she pulled back. At the slight nod from the blonde, she grinned and settled back on her elbows on the cot.

"Albert, I can wait. Take care of the princess first." Not that he would have planned on doing otherwise.

"You cut yourself, let me see, your Highness," Albert said, taking her hand and examining it. "Not very deep, I'll just need to clean it and wrap it in a small bandage."

"There is something else," Catherine said quietly, once he was finished bandaging her hand. She had changed from her wedding attire to a pale pink satin nightgown, and Sara saw her draw a slow breath before she turned around and climbed onto an empty cot, laying on her stomach. "If you just... lift my nightgown..."

"Your Highness, I cannot do such a thing," Albert protested, eyes wide.

"I'll do it," Sara offered with a cheeky grin, hopping down from her own cot and moving to the princess's side, taking the hem of her gown and raising it far enough to reveal the welts crossing her behind. She laid the material around Catherine's waist as she heard Albert gasp and drop something.

"Your Highness! What happened to you? Did those men..." He didn't finish his sentence, he just let the question trail off into the air.

Sara listened intently, curious as to how Catherine would explain it. An irrationally large part of her wanted the princess to tell him the truth.

"No, it wasn't the men," she whispered, her face turned away from the medic. "Please, just give me some balm to ease the sting."

Sara could hear tears in Catherine's voice, and she sat on the end of the cot beside the princess's head. "Don't question her, Albert, it's clear she doesn't want to discuss it," she said at his furrowed brow, before he had a chance to keep badgering the princess. He was no doubt surprised, as he was used to Sara jumping at the chance to bother the king's daughter, and the look on his face told her as much.

"Of course," Albert said, gathering supplies in a hurry. "This will hurt quite a bit at first, my apologies, your Highness, but it should help in the long run. Would you still like to continue?"

"Yes," Catherine replied, nodding.

Sara was wondering whether Catherine would want her sitting so close, and she was about to get up when the princess's hands found hers and squeezed tightly. She knew Catherine would need something to hold onto, an outlet for the pain, so the gesture didn't mean as much as it might have otherwise. That said, though, she was still touched, and gave a squeeze in return.

Albert spread some balm onto his hands and then carefully placed them on the princess's backside, just as carefully rubbing the cool ointment over the welted skin.

Catherine gasped and gripped Sara's hands tighter. She could feel fingernails digging into her, and watched as the princess shut her eyes, a look of pain on her features as a few tears slid down her cheeks. And for the first time, Sara really allowed herself to feel guilty about what she'd done. She didn't regret it, but seeing the princess in pain like this did send a pang of guilt to her chest. However, she did realize that apart from a good thrashing, there was nothing else she could have done to stop the blonde's constant tormenting.

Suddenly she found Catherine's head in her lap, and her eyes sprung open wide as she looked to Albert for help. How had the princess's head ended up in her lap? She thought it must have been an accident, but Catherine was clinging to her and shaking lightly as she cried.

Albert was done applying the balm, and Sara gestured politely for him and his assistants to please step out of the room. They all nodded to her and slipped out, closing the door behind them, and once she was alone with the princess, she lifted a hand to run her fingers comfortingly through Catherine's hair. The sight of a disheveled princess in her pink satin nightgown was... well, it was endearing. It made Catherine seem much younger than she really was, and made Sara want to protect her. She very carefully reached over to lower Catherine's nightgown, and then returned her hand to the silky blonde hair that was beginning to feel exquisite against her fingertips. She hadn't imagined such a feisty woman would have such soft hair, but it suited the princess nicely.

After sitting together quietly for several long minutes, Sara spoke. "Would you like an escort back to your room?"

"No no," Catherine said quickly, shaking her head and sliding off the cot to stand up. "Thank you for the offer, but I'll be fine."

Sara cocked an eyebrow as she watched Catherine hurry from the room, curious as to what the princess was thinking about. But, so far so good, because if she'd asked that question a day before, she would have no doubt received a poisonous reply instead of a 'no thank-you'.

As Catherine left, Albert came back in and commanded her out of her clothes for an examination and treatment. She reluctantly removed her pants and shirt, keeping her undergarments intact. She had no injuries beneath those.

"What did I just witness between yourself and the princess?" he asked as he set about gently palpating her healing ribcage.

"An olive branch, of sorts," Sara replied, grimacing at the touch, even light as it was, it hurt.

"You did that to her backside, didn't you?" Albert clearly disapproved, as indicated by his tone of voice and the frown on his face.

"If she wants you to know that, she'll tell you," Sara said in a clipped tone.

"I disapprove," Albert said gruffly, shuffling over to his cleaning supplies and bringing a few back to clean the cuts on her arms and legs.

"Your approval isn't necessary," Sara reminded him. "And you have no idea how much she deserved that."

"There you go acting brutish again," Albert said, shaking his head as he cleaned her wounds and bandaged up the few bigger ones. "Your ribs are almost healed, just take it easy for a few more days and they should be fine."

Sara nodded and put her clothes back on, then left without another word. She really didn't care whether Albert approved or not. She'd done what she needed to do, and even Catherine herself didn't seem like she disapproved.

Upon reaching her room, Sara went straight to bed, not even bothering to change her clothes as she sank down onto the soft mattress and closed her eyes. She was exhausted - the last few days had been rough.

--

Nightmares woke Sara in the middle of the night, and she sat up in bed, gasping for breath, her whole body covered in sweat. She couldn't remember what she'd been dreaming about, only that it had been something terrifying. She got out of bed and quickly made up a cool bath, stripping naked and climbing into the tub with a sigh, sinking down into the water and enjoying the feeling of relaxation it brought.

She lay staring at the ceiling, trying to remember what her dreams had been about. Her parents, maybe? Her childhood in general? Losing Sam, failing in battle, something happening to Catherine again?

*Catherine*. Things were more complicated now that they were in calm waters. Because now there were feelings involved, and with feelings comes responsibility and protectiveness and-- yeah, she'd better just get out of the bath and go check on the princess. Make sure she was all right. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't think she'd be able to fall back asleep unless she checked on Catherine first. She just had a *feeling*.

Climbing out of the water, she pulled on a nightgown and headed out of her room, making the short walk to the princess's. She had never been inside Catherine's room before, she'd never had cause to. Hopefully she wouldn't have to go in tonight, either... she could just knock quietly and check in through the door. But she had to check in. She lifted her hand and knocked, loud enough to be heard if Catherine was awake, but not loud enough to wake her if she was asleep. There was no answer, so she tried once more and then let herself quietly into the room.

The sight before her made her melt. Catherine had changed out of her satin nightgown and was wearing fuzzy pink pajama pants and matching camisole, sleeping on her stomach, clutching a stuffed animal. It was just... precious, and it took her breath away. She stood staring for a minute or two before she realized that's what she was doing, and then let her eyes wander briefly around the room, appreciating the princess's taste in decorating. There were drawings framed and hung upon the walls, several sconces with unlit candles flanking each one, and the stone floor was partially covered by a large plush white rug in the center of the room. It was simple, but tasteful, and it felt... comfortable. She didn't want to linger too long though, now that she'd assured herself that Catherine was all right, so she slipped back out of the room, closing the door behind her and returning to her own quarters.

She took off her nightgown and got back into bed, properly this time, beneath the blankets, and sighed as the cool sheets came into contact with her naked body. She loved the way that felt.

She was almost asleep when she heard a knock on her door, and raising an eyebrow she called out, "come in..."

The princess walked in, still wearing the pink fuzzy pajama outfit and holding her stuffed animal, a sleepy, pouty expression on her face. "You woke me up when you left, and I can't get back to sleep," she said a bit grumpily as she closed the door. Stepping further into the room, she looked around and then at Sara. "What were you doing?"

Sara fought hard to keep herself from blushing, even though Catherine probably wouldn't be able to tell in the dim light that filtered in through the windows. "I had a strange feeling, so I checked to make sure you were all right."

Catherine walked closer and stopped at the foot of the bed, both of her arms wrapped around her teddy bear as she stared over its head at Sara, quite clearly pouting now. "I was fine until you spanked me like a child and then woke me up," she said with a slight whine, climbing onto the bed beside Sara and stretching out on her stomach.

"Hang on," Sara tried to say, but Catherine was laying on her bed before she could finish. "Close your eyes a minute, I'll get dressed." She waited until Catherine complied, and then quickly got out of bed and pulled her nightgown on. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"But you're not sorry you spanked me?"

"No." Catherine's eyes were still closed, so she offered, "you can open now, I'm dressed."

Catherine opened those baby blue eyes and stared at Sara curiously. "You weren't afraid to touch me."

"No, I wasn't. I had your father's permission, and I was tired of being belittled all day long." This was a very strange conversation, and Sara wasn't quite sure where Catherine was trying to go with it.

"And you're not sorry?"

"No, I'm not sorry," Sara repeated, still standing beside the bed, looking down at Catherine.

The princess nodded and rested her head on folded arms. "Just checking."

"Do you think I should be sorry?"

Her question was met with silence, a long stretch of it, and then Catherine said simply, "no."

Sara had expected a yes, maybe even a hell yes, but the princess's answer just went to show how much of an impact the spanking had had on her. "We agree then. And you should know that if the attitude returns, I will not hesitate to turn you over my knee again," she said, her voice taking on a firmer tone.

Again Catherine was quiet for a long time before she answered. "I know."

Sara nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'd like to try to sleep now."

Catherine nodded as well. "Good night," she said quietly.

Sara actually blinked, turning her head to look over her shoulder at the princess. "You can't possibly be planning to sleep here..."

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm comfortable."

"Well I'm glad that you're comfortable, but I'm not."

"So you're kicking me out of your room?"

"I prefer to see it as maintaining appropriate standards, but you're free to see it as you wish, of course."

"Since when is taking a switch to the princess's backside 'appropriate standards'?"

Sara sighed. Catherine had her there. "Catherine, you just cannot sleep in here."

"But I want to."

"We don't always get everything we want," Sara said with a slight frown.

Apparently Catherine decided to turn on the childish charm, because she turned onto her side facing Sara, looking at her with big blue eyes. "Please? You said you had a strange feeling, and now I don't want to be alone."

How was she supposed to say no to that? This was definitely a complicated development in their relationship. Catherine had never tried to manipulate her before. Anger her, yes, but never manipulate her. "Are you really afraid, or do you just want to get your way?" she asked, after regarding the princess in silence for several seconds.

"Mostly I just want to get my way," Catherine said with a sigh. "But now that I've got the seed planted, I'm starting to get a little afraid."

"All right, fine," Sara grumbled, pulling one of the blankets off the bed and making a pallet for herself on the rug in front of the fireplace.

Catherine didn't say anything else, and when Sara glanced over at her several minutes later, the blonde's eyes were closed and her breathing appeared to have evened into sleep. She looked so peaceful, Sara had to smile. She shook her head at herself as she stretched out on her side, and tried to fall asleep as well.