Denial II, chapter 25: Deliver Us From Evil
TItle: Denial II, chapter 25: Deliver Us From Evil
Authors: robinfanatic
Characters: Count Friedrich, Abbess Beatrix, Marian
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Words: 2403
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe.
Notes: from an idea by perteltote; takes place after AU 2x13 but prior to 3x01; beta'd by darkentwisted & jagnikjen
Introduction and chapter links for Denial II are here...
Summary: The Abbess Beatrix returns to her childhood home after serving God in the Holy Land for twenty years. She is welcomed back to Bavaria by her brother, Count Friedrich. Marian awakens at the abbey.
>>>------------------->>
Chapter 25: Deliver Us from Evil
Abbess Beatrix admired the soaring, ornately decorated ceilings of the palatial home with the eyes of a child. She’d been but sixteen when she’d left to take her vows.
She hadn't thought she'd come back. Had never anticipated seeing her brother again. She remembered leaving this place and recalled that she’d not been sad because she felt so filled with God's love. That joy had sustained her through the years.
She'd never longed for home. She missed Freddy, of course, and prayed for him often. But home was a feeling inside her heart, in her soul. It never mattered where she lived. And these last twenty years in the Holy Land - so near to the places where Jesus walked - comforted her like family would. She never regretted one moment she had given in service to God. Never...until that fateful day in Acre.
She shuddered remembering the heat of that man’s breath on her face. She lowered her head and crossed herself, a whisper to God on her lips.
Footsteps across the stone flooring caught her ear and she looked up. “Freddy!” she cried joyfully. The years had been kind to her older brother. He still had a bounce to his walk.
Count Friedrich Berthold Otto von Wittersburg met the woman’s gaze and picked up his pace.
“Bea?”
He held his arms out and rushed to her. They embraced for a long time and then Freddy pulled back, his hands sliding down her arms to clasp her hands and take a good look at her.
Beatrix stood several inches taller than Friedrich. She was a big woman who inherited her height and big bones from their paternal grandfather. Age had broadened her face and her hips, but her habit and her deep blue eyes softened her features.
“It is you. You look tired. Come, sit down,” Friedrich said, leading her toward the great room. “I shall have to speak to my staff about making you stand at the door. Where are your bags? You are staying--?”
“I left my bags at the Abbey in Speyer. You mustn’t worry about me, dear brother,” she said. “Do not bother your servants. I am not the pampered princess that I once was.”
“You will stay here tonight. I insist,” he replied.
She inclined her head. “Of course. Does Frau Wilhemina still work for you?” She chuckled, remembering the petite blonde woman who used to cater to their every childhood whim and often made excuses to Mutter und Vater when she and Freddy played along the lakeside and got dirty building castles and mud pies.
“That she does. She will be delighted to see you again. She is old and frail but still has a sharp tongue.” Friedrich patted Beatrix’s hand. “And my servants must treat you kindly. You are the only mistress of this house and will be treated accordingly. Only the best for my dear sister. A drink? Yes,” he replied with a nod.
“Does our dear Frau still sneak extra sweets from the kitchens at bedtime?”
Friedrich laughed. “Chocolates and cakes.”
He offered Beatrix a chair then rang the bell. A man named Aldrich appeared, took Freddy's orders, and disappeared quietly from the room like a mouse.
“What brings you home, Bea?” he asked.
Beatrix pursed her lips and squared her broad shoulders. She clasped her hands in her lap and held them tightly. "I . . . I can no longer be so close to the places where Our Lord walked when I have sinned."
Friedrich frowned. "You? No, that cannot be." He sat down beside Beatrix and placed his hand atop hers. "God knows what is in your heart. Why would He think you have done something wrong? You are Bea, my little sister, whose heart has always been so pure--"
Beatrix shook her head. "I was weak. I have come home to pray and to seek His forgiveness."
Freddy made a face of disbelief. "Surely whatever you did was with only the best intentions."
"Good intentions do not hide my sins from God. He may be saddened by my actions. I know my soul may remain in darkness."
"My poor Bea," Friedrich replied as Aldrich reappeared with wine and cakes.
Beatrix stood and wandered to the hearth to warm her hands. Though nights in the desert might be frigid, she'd rarely felt chilled in the abbey there. Not until the ugly English man insisted she do his bidding. Her weakness made her cold.
Aldrich poured the wine and was waved away by Freddy.
"Tell me what happened," he implored, picking up both goblets and walking toward her.
Turning round, she forced a soft smile to her lips. "Sin is a personal thing--"
"Not when it hurts others," he said, offering her the wine.
Beatrix sipped her wine then looked toward the heavens a moment, deep in thought. She'd been over this in her own mind on the journey here. "My intention is to ensure that my charge remains safe."
"Your charge?" Freddy tsk'd. "These words are cryptic, Bea."
Beatrix took a deep breath, released it. "The body of a beautiful young woman was brought to our abbey in Acre for burial.”
"Your...charge?" Freddy repeated.
"She was not dead."
He frowned. "I must say I am confused."
"I am certain that the man who delivered her to us was responsible for her condition." Beatrix shivered, wrapping her arms round herself. Her voice turned to barely a whisper. "I believe he tried to murder her."
"Did you report this to the authorities?"
Beatrix chuckled, surprised that her brother would think politics and intrigue might be different thousands of miles from Bavaria. "Do you know who is in charge in Acre, Freddy?"
"No," he replied, shaking his head.
"Neither does anyone else," she said. "There is little law as the city changes hands between the Christians and the Saracens. There is no one to bring this man to justice if he had remained there."
"This...scoundrel. He left Acre?" Freddy asked. "And you kept your charge safe by bringing her to Bavaria."
"Yes."
Freddy downed his drink in one gulp and placed the empty goblet on the table. "Then she may begin a new life here," he announced triumphantly as if Beatrix's plan made perfect sense. He poured himself another round of the ruby-red liquid. "Far from that...that madman. What is there to ask God's forgiveness?"
Beatrix sat down and took another sip from her wine. She stared into the goblet wishing the liquid could drown her dark thoughts. The vile Englishman paid her to keep the girl a prisoner. It was wrong. She knew it was wrong but had she refused, he would have killed her.
Beatrix met her brother's gaze. "When he discovered that she lived, he demanded we keep her locked away. I should have refused to do his bidding. I serve God, Freddy, and should be willing to accept any sacrifice for what is right." Tears stung her eyes. She thought to herself that she'd not been strong enough to do the right thing. Her sin was cowardice...and holding the girl prisoner. "I was afraid...for the first time in my life I was afraid."
Freddy took a seat by his sister and tipped her face toward his. He dried the tear that slid across her cheek then cupped her face in his hands. "You are protecting the girl from this man. God will understand."
"There is more," Beatrix sighed.
Freddy's brow rose.
Beatrix crossed herself, her eyes raised toward heaven. “I confided my fears about the girl's safety to the Mother Superior and suggested that we do as he'd asked - keep her a prisoner - but not in the manner he might expect."
Freddy covered his mouth with the back of his hand to hide his smile. "Why is it that I find your duplicity in this matter so intriguing?" he asked.
Beatrix ignored his attempt to lighten her mood. "It was the Mother Superior's idea to make inquiries to find out the name of the Englishman. She would send him a letter and tell him that the young woman died shortly after he left Acre. Novice Haime helped procure a pauper's body that we buried."
"That was a very good plan. There would be witnesses to a burial should this man have any suspicions."
"But it is a lie," Bea said.
"You are keeping her safe," he countered. "Does she remember what happened?"
"She suffered a terrible blow to the head. Her memories are not clear."
“If they return--”
“I fear for her life if she tries to find this man," Bea replied. "I wish I could order her to stay at the abbey. I will try to convince her this would be in her best interest."
"She would be wise to listen to you," Freddy said. "As you and I both know, having every aspect of your life prescribed makes things simpler."
"I wonder if she would understand that. She seems the type who might have led a privileged life, who had young men pursuing her."
“Then you will have something in common with her. You remember those days, Bea?”
She smiled. “I do, though my Lord Jesus was the only one who caught my eye, Freddy. Besides, what silly Bavarian would have me? A large girl who was strong--”
“Stronger than her royal suitors."
“--fought better, rode better, and regularly beat her older brother at the gaming tables." Beatrix threw her brother a wink. "Vater was relieved when I joined the convent.”
Freddy pressed a hand to her arm. “You taught me every thing I know.” He sipped at his tea, then waved a hand toward the tray. “Another cake?”
>>>------------------------>>
Soft footsteps padded along the stone flooring in the corridor. Marian blinked, slowly opening her eyes to the black of a moonless night, not one sliver of light from the orb peeking through the window. She waited, listening, and realized that even given the lateness of the hour the castle seemed quieter than usual. There was no chink of armour, no boot spurs brushing against the stone.
Had she missed some excitement? Had Robin been discovered attempting to find his way to her? The guards sent off to chase him?
Robin...
Her heartbeat quickened. Something was not right...
Her head throbbed. Shivering, she curled into a ball and adjusted the blanket around herself.
There. Voices. Very faint. No... singing. Many voices lifted in song. The words...in Latin...
Marian frowned.
The nun... She shook her head, feeling the woman's hands on her brow, comforting.
Her stomach twisted. A vile, sour taste curled her mouth. Memories...on a boat...waves rocking her slowly to sleep...and a carriage ride...her body jostled along a long and bumpy road.
Marian sat up abruptly. Her breaths came hard and she squinted through the darkness. There was an unfamiliar smell. Not of pitch, nor of hay. Not the castle. Not Nottingham. Not her room.
She swung her legs round and the blanket slid to the floor as her bare feet touched cold stone. She tried to stand but the room begin to spin. A brilliant white light sliced through the darkness and a stabbing pain assaulted her eyes, forcing her to shield them.
Desert. She remembered the hot white sands and... and...
"And what?" she groaned. "Why can't I remember?"
The choir's song intensified. Marian cradled her head in her hands, struggling to understand images that flashed through her mind. The king...a sword...black leather...
Voices rang out amidst the growing chorus. She heard her name shouted amongst the roar.
"Stop it!" she cried out, the noises discordant and harsh to her ear.
She stood slowly, testing her legs again. Taking one step, then another, she felt her muscles quiver, her knees grow weak. Determined, she stumbled to the door and turned the handle. It would not give way.
"Let me out of here!" she shouted.
She pounded on the door then turned, her back pressed to the wall as she slid to the floor.
The door creaked open. Candlelight flickered as an imposing figure stepped into the room.
The woman set the candlestick down and drew to her knees beside Marian. "It is all right, my child. You are safe now." She combed her fingers through Marian's dark locks.
Marian studied the older woman. She caught her hand, cradling it against her cheek. Large, warm - she'd felt this touch on her face, against her brow. She remembered the kind smile and bright eyes that now glinted from the light of the candle.
"We have met," Marian said.
The woman nodded. "I am the Abbess Beatrix."
"Where is Robin?" Marian asked. "He will be looking for me--"
"He cannot harm you here," Beatrix murmured. "The sisters of the abbey will keep you safe."
Marian shook her head. Not Robin. It was...was...the sword...black leather... "No, no....that cannot be. Robin is--"
"A dangerous man," Beatrix added.
"Dangerous?"
"He tried to kill you, did he not?" Beatrix asked.
Marian frowned. Her head ached. She could not think straight. She pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. Robin... what happened? Why couldn't she remember?
"Come," Beatrix said, helping her to her feet. "You are still weak from your injury and our long, arduous journey. Rest a while. I will be back later and we shall break our fast together, yes?"
Beatrix led Marian back to the threadbare cot.
"Must you lock me in?" she asked as Beatrix pulled the soft woolen blanket up to her chin.
"I will leave the door unlocked if you promise to wait until I return." She patted Marian's arm and smiled gently. "I do not want you to get lost."
"I am far from home," Marian said, knowing that she'd heard this woman's soft accent before.
"Yes," Beatrix nodded. "You will be happy here, far from the barren desert, away from that heat."
"Acre," Marian said quietly. "We aren't in Acre. There was a boat. And a carriage. Where are we?"
"In Speyer at the abbey."
Marian's confused expression was countered by the abbess' firm but understanding one. "In Bavaria," Beatrix said with a soft smile.
"Please, can you tell me what happened?" Marian asked.
"Your memory will return, child. Don't worry yourself. Give it time. You are safe," Beatrix said, brushing her hand along Marian's brow. "You are safe."
Marian closed her eyes and let the gentle touch and comforting voice lull her back to sleep.
>>>----------------->>
In Poitiers - finally
Chapter 26 this way...
Authors: robinfanatic
Characters: Count Friedrich, Abbess Beatrix, Marian
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Words: 2403
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe.
Notes: from an idea by perteltote; takes place after AU 2x13 but prior to 3x01; beta'd by darkentwisted & jagnikjen
Introduction and chapter links for Denial II are here...
Summary: The Abbess Beatrix returns to her childhood home after serving God in the Holy Land for twenty years. She is welcomed back to Bavaria by her brother, Count Friedrich. Marian awakens at the abbey.
>>>------------------->>
Chapter 25: Deliver Us from Evil
Abbess Beatrix admired the soaring, ornately decorated ceilings of the palatial home with the eyes of a child. She’d been but sixteen when she’d left to take her vows.
She hadn't thought she'd come back. Had never anticipated seeing her brother again. She remembered leaving this place and recalled that she’d not been sad because she felt so filled with God's love. That joy had sustained her through the years.
She'd never longed for home. She missed Freddy, of course, and prayed for him often. But home was a feeling inside her heart, in her soul. It never mattered where she lived. And these last twenty years in the Holy Land - so near to the places where Jesus walked - comforted her like family would. She never regretted one moment she had given in service to God. Never...until that fateful day in Acre.
She shuddered remembering the heat of that man’s breath on her face. She lowered her head and crossed herself, a whisper to God on her lips.
Footsteps across the stone flooring caught her ear and she looked up. “Freddy!” she cried joyfully. The years had been kind to her older brother. He still had a bounce to his walk.
Count Friedrich Berthold Otto von Wittersburg met the woman’s gaze and picked up his pace.
“Bea?”
He held his arms out and rushed to her. They embraced for a long time and then Freddy pulled back, his hands sliding down her arms to clasp her hands and take a good look at her.
Beatrix stood several inches taller than Friedrich. She was a big woman who inherited her height and big bones from their paternal grandfather. Age had broadened her face and her hips, but her habit and her deep blue eyes softened her features.
“It is you. You look tired. Come, sit down,” Friedrich said, leading her toward the great room. “I shall have to speak to my staff about making you stand at the door. Where are your bags? You are staying--?”
“I left my bags at the Abbey in Speyer. You mustn’t worry about me, dear brother,” she said. “Do not bother your servants. I am not the pampered princess that I once was.”
“You will stay here tonight. I insist,” he replied.
She inclined her head. “Of course. Does Frau Wilhemina still work for you?” She chuckled, remembering the petite blonde woman who used to cater to their every childhood whim and often made excuses to Mutter und Vater when she and Freddy played along the lakeside and got dirty building castles and mud pies.
“That she does. She will be delighted to see you again. She is old and frail but still has a sharp tongue.” Friedrich patted Beatrix’s hand. “And my servants must treat you kindly. You are the only mistress of this house and will be treated accordingly. Only the best for my dear sister. A drink? Yes,” he replied with a nod.
“Does our dear Frau still sneak extra sweets from the kitchens at bedtime?”
Friedrich laughed. “Chocolates and cakes.”
He offered Beatrix a chair then rang the bell. A man named Aldrich appeared, took Freddy's orders, and disappeared quietly from the room like a mouse.
“What brings you home, Bea?” he asked.
Beatrix pursed her lips and squared her broad shoulders. She clasped her hands in her lap and held them tightly. "I . . . I can no longer be so close to the places where Our Lord walked when I have sinned."
Friedrich frowned. "You? No, that cannot be." He sat down beside Beatrix and placed his hand atop hers. "God knows what is in your heart. Why would He think you have done something wrong? You are Bea, my little sister, whose heart has always been so pure--"
Beatrix shook her head. "I was weak. I have come home to pray and to seek His forgiveness."
Freddy made a face of disbelief. "Surely whatever you did was with only the best intentions."
"Good intentions do not hide my sins from God. He may be saddened by my actions. I know my soul may remain in darkness."
"My poor Bea," Friedrich replied as Aldrich reappeared with wine and cakes.
Beatrix stood and wandered to the hearth to warm her hands. Though nights in the desert might be frigid, she'd rarely felt chilled in the abbey there. Not until the ugly English man insisted she do his bidding. Her weakness made her cold.
Aldrich poured the wine and was waved away by Freddy.
"Tell me what happened," he implored, picking up both goblets and walking toward her.
Turning round, she forced a soft smile to her lips. "Sin is a personal thing--"
"Not when it hurts others," he said, offering her the wine.
Beatrix sipped her wine then looked toward the heavens a moment, deep in thought. She'd been over this in her own mind on the journey here. "My intention is to ensure that my charge remains safe."
"Your charge?" Freddy tsk'd. "These words are cryptic, Bea."
Beatrix took a deep breath, released it. "The body of a beautiful young woman was brought to our abbey in Acre for burial.”
"Your...charge?" Freddy repeated.
"She was not dead."
He frowned. "I must say I am confused."
"I am certain that the man who delivered her to us was responsible for her condition." Beatrix shivered, wrapping her arms round herself. Her voice turned to barely a whisper. "I believe he tried to murder her."
"Did you report this to the authorities?"
Beatrix chuckled, surprised that her brother would think politics and intrigue might be different thousands of miles from Bavaria. "Do you know who is in charge in Acre, Freddy?"
"No," he replied, shaking his head.
"Neither does anyone else," she said. "There is little law as the city changes hands between the Christians and the Saracens. There is no one to bring this man to justice if he had remained there."
"This...scoundrel. He left Acre?" Freddy asked. "And you kept your charge safe by bringing her to Bavaria."
"Yes."
Freddy downed his drink in one gulp and placed the empty goblet on the table. "Then she may begin a new life here," he announced triumphantly as if Beatrix's plan made perfect sense. He poured himself another round of the ruby-red liquid. "Far from that...that madman. What is there to ask God's forgiveness?"
Beatrix sat down and took another sip from her wine. She stared into the goblet wishing the liquid could drown her dark thoughts. The vile Englishman paid her to keep the girl a prisoner. It was wrong. She knew it was wrong but had she refused, he would have killed her.
Beatrix met her brother's gaze. "When he discovered that she lived, he demanded we keep her locked away. I should have refused to do his bidding. I serve God, Freddy, and should be willing to accept any sacrifice for what is right." Tears stung her eyes. She thought to herself that she'd not been strong enough to do the right thing. Her sin was cowardice...and holding the girl prisoner. "I was afraid...for the first time in my life I was afraid."
Freddy took a seat by his sister and tipped her face toward his. He dried the tear that slid across her cheek then cupped her face in his hands. "You are protecting the girl from this man. God will understand."
"There is more," Beatrix sighed.
Freddy's brow rose.
Beatrix crossed herself, her eyes raised toward heaven. “I confided my fears about the girl's safety to the Mother Superior and suggested that we do as he'd asked - keep her a prisoner - but not in the manner he might expect."
Freddy covered his mouth with the back of his hand to hide his smile. "Why is it that I find your duplicity in this matter so intriguing?" he asked.
Beatrix ignored his attempt to lighten her mood. "It was the Mother Superior's idea to make inquiries to find out the name of the Englishman. She would send him a letter and tell him that the young woman died shortly after he left Acre. Novice Haime helped procure a pauper's body that we buried."
"That was a very good plan. There would be witnesses to a burial should this man have any suspicions."
"But it is a lie," Bea said.
"You are keeping her safe," he countered. "Does she remember what happened?"
"She suffered a terrible blow to the head. Her memories are not clear."
“If they return--”
“I fear for her life if she tries to find this man," Bea replied. "I wish I could order her to stay at the abbey. I will try to convince her this would be in her best interest."
"She would be wise to listen to you," Freddy said. "As you and I both know, having every aspect of your life prescribed makes things simpler."
"I wonder if she would understand that. She seems the type who might have led a privileged life, who had young men pursuing her."
“Then you will have something in common with her. You remember those days, Bea?”
She smiled. “I do, though my Lord Jesus was the only one who caught my eye, Freddy. Besides, what silly Bavarian would have me? A large girl who was strong--”
“Stronger than her royal suitors."
“--fought better, rode better, and regularly beat her older brother at the gaming tables." Beatrix threw her brother a wink. "Vater was relieved when I joined the convent.”
Freddy pressed a hand to her arm. “You taught me every thing I know.” He sipped at his tea, then waved a hand toward the tray. “Another cake?”
>>>------------------------>>
Soft footsteps padded along the stone flooring in the corridor. Marian blinked, slowly opening her eyes to the black of a moonless night, not one sliver of light from the orb peeking through the window. She waited, listening, and realized that even given the lateness of the hour the castle seemed quieter than usual. There was no chink of armour, no boot spurs brushing against the stone.
Had she missed some excitement? Had Robin been discovered attempting to find his way to her? The guards sent off to chase him?
Robin...
Her heartbeat quickened. Something was not right...
Her head throbbed. Shivering, she curled into a ball and adjusted the blanket around herself.
There. Voices. Very faint. No... singing. Many voices lifted in song. The words...in Latin...
Marian frowned.
The nun... She shook her head, feeling the woman's hands on her brow, comforting.
Her stomach twisted. A vile, sour taste curled her mouth. Memories...on a boat...waves rocking her slowly to sleep...and a carriage ride...her body jostled along a long and bumpy road.
Marian sat up abruptly. Her breaths came hard and she squinted through the darkness. There was an unfamiliar smell. Not of pitch, nor of hay. Not the castle. Not Nottingham. Not her room.
She swung her legs round and the blanket slid to the floor as her bare feet touched cold stone. She tried to stand but the room begin to spin. A brilliant white light sliced through the darkness and a stabbing pain assaulted her eyes, forcing her to shield them.
Desert. She remembered the hot white sands and... and...
"And what?" she groaned. "Why can't I remember?"
The choir's song intensified. Marian cradled her head in her hands, struggling to understand images that flashed through her mind. The king...a sword...black leather...
Voices rang out amidst the growing chorus. She heard her name shouted amongst the roar.
"Stop it!" she cried out, the noises discordant and harsh to her ear.
She stood slowly, testing her legs again. Taking one step, then another, she felt her muscles quiver, her knees grow weak. Determined, she stumbled to the door and turned the handle. It would not give way.
"Let me out of here!" she shouted.
She pounded on the door then turned, her back pressed to the wall as she slid to the floor.
The door creaked open. Candlelight flickered as an imposing figure stepped into the room.
The woman set the candlestick down and drew to her knees beside Marian. "It is all right, my child. You are safe now." She combed her fingers through Marian's dark locks.
Marian studied the older woman. She caught her hand, cradling it against her cheek. Large, warm - she'd felt this touch on her face, against her brow. She remembered the kind smile and bright eyes that now glinted from the light of the candle.
"We have met," Marian said.
The woman nodded. "I am the Abbess Beatrix."
"Where is Robin?" Marian asked. "He will be looking for me--"
"He cannot harm you here," Beatrix murmured. "The sisters of the abbey will keep you safe."
Marian shook her head. Not Robin. It was...was...the sword...black leather... "No, no....that cannot be. Robin is--"
"A dangerous man," Beatrix added.
"Dangerous?"
"He tried to kill you, did he not?" Beatrix asked.
Marian frowned. Her head ached. She could not think straight. She pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. Robin... what happened? Why couldn't she remember?
"Come," Beatrix said, helping her to her feet. "You are still weak from your injury and our long, arduous journey. Rest a while. I will be back later and we shall break our fast together, yes?"
Beatrix led Marian back to the threadbare cot.
"Must you lock me in?" she asked as Beatrix pulled the soft woolen blanket up to her chin.
"I will leave the door unlocked if you promise to wait until I return." She patted Marian's arm and smiled gently. "I do not want you to get lost."
"I am far from home," Marian said, knowing that she'd heard this woman's soft accent before.
"Yes," Beatrix nodded. "You will be happy here, far from the barren desert, away from that heat."
"Acre," Marian said quietly. "We aren't in Acre. There was a boat. And a carriage. Where are we?"
"In Speyer at the abbey."
Marian's confused expression was countered by the abbess' firm but understanding one. "In Bavaria," Beatrix said with a soft smile.
"Please, can you tell me what happened?" Marian asked.
"Your memory will return, child. Don't worry yourself. Give it time. You are safe," Beatrix said, brushing her hand along Marian's brow. "You are safe."
Marian closed her eyes and let the gentle touch and comforting voice lull her back to sleep.
>>>----------------->>
In Poitiers - finally
Chapter 26 this way...