Chapter Text
She slipped in and out of consciousness in the back of the carriage, only vaguely aware of the touch and voice of a woman speaking softly to her, stroking her hair and shushing each pained and confused moan that passed her lips, the aches grew and subsided with every rock and sway that their mode of transport provided. “Wynonna?” She whispered, barely audible above the sound of the horse's hoofbeats against the cobbled streets and the creaking wooden carriage; though she knew it wasn’t, the faint blurred red colour that caught in the sunlight every time they passed another gap in another building told her as much. The faintest smell of vanilla ghosted her nostrils and it reminded Waverly of home; a home that she’d left long ago when their family had moved to the city from her native Canada.
Waverly was faintly aware of a small halo of light that surrounded her stranger's head, the licks of light highlighted her auburn locks in such brilliance that she could have mistaken her for an angel in another dream where she wasn’t slipping in and out of consciousness, eyes still unable or was it unwilling to focus on the beauty above her; trying, but failing to raise her hand to touch to glaze over the glowing spectre before her Waverly murmured something inaudible to Nicole’s ear as she slipped further into her dream state blending the world she tried to cling to with a world that couldn't feel those soft hands grazing her face. She reluctantly fell into the dream aware only that the woman had asked her name, of which she could not answer.
. w .
When the confused girl had stared at her, eyes unseeing, Nicole’s heart had skipped a beat as her hand had lingered a little too long on her flushed red cheek, thumb grazing the line of her jaw taking note of a scar that sat neatly just below her jawline above the faint blue line of her artery. Try as she may the people that congregated after she’d fallen; now crowded around them offering little to no help as to her identity, a passing comment and snide remark to the left suggested only useless and loose lipped advice to advise her against taking her back to the carriage to care for her, muttering their little gossip infested lies about her being just another prostitute and not worth her time. Nicole begged to differ and after the crowd got bored and dispersed she pulled the girl into her arms carrying her small figure effortlessly towards the waiting palace carriage. Requesting the footman to take her back to Belgravia, all other plans forgotten in the instant she watched that yellow dress crumple to the floor. Nicole’s breath hitched as she stroked loose fawn coloured stray hairs from the girl's face and forgot how to breathe when pained moans escaped her thin pink lips.
“Shhh” she’d offered though it was hollow compared to the words she really wanted to say, fingers playing across her pulse point checking and double checking worriedly, concern creasing her forehead when the girl questioned her identity with one word; ‘Wynonna?’ eyes fluttering she was slipping again as Nicole cupped her cheek gently looking as close to directly into her eyes as she possibly could; “Easy..” she cooed, the word rolling off her tongue before she could stop it, realising how it would sound to the girl who didn't even know her. “What's your name?” She thought she had her but in the next moment she was gone again, head resting in Nicole's lap, breathing shallower and irregular the moan that escaped her mouth now was a tormented one, followed by a gasp as she sucked a massive gulp of air into her waiting lungs before going still, the beating of her heart beneath the skin of her neck the only visible movement.
White buildings taller than the windows glowing a bluish tint in the shade of the sun, blurred at the edges blending into one white stone block as the cobbles became harsher on the rocking of the carriage signalling their arrival back in Belgravia a lot faster than she had left earlier that day. Nicole’s hands clasped protectively against the smaller girl's frame, pulling her slight figure into her own muscled physique as she cradled the unconscious girl tighter to her chest in a bid to reduce the trauma of the transport to the house.
By the time the carriage came to a complete stop outside number nine a mere two hours since it had departed. Nicole’s hand was already at the door pressing it open forcefully to almost hit the footman, who’d dismounted the front of the carriage to help the lady in question as was customary in London, square in the face, he’d balked, shocked at the action but did not question her, instead he bowed his head graciously and held the door ajar through his bewilderment.
Ethan’s figure loomed in the doorway three marbled steps above her a baffled expression creasing his brow as he watched his sister carry a slight woman in a grubby yellow dress from the royal carriage before ascending the steps and slipping neatly past him into the light and airy entrance hall, bypassing all of this Nicole’s progress was watched by wide wary eyes of the staff as they hung around in the shadows, blending into the darkness like ghosts. Nicole wasn’t aware of anything but the way that the weight of the girl shifted slightly in her arms, stirring, moaning as her petite hand tried to rub at the bruise on her forehead.
Ethan disturbed her from her thoughts as she placed the girl softly into the deep purple berry coloured cushions of her brother’s French Louis sofa; his tall figure leant against the dark oak door frame, his expression unreadable but his question pointedly requiring an appropriate response and one that wasn’t (too) far fetched; he raised his bushy black eyebrows; “You know Cole, when I said that you should come back with something, a girl wasn’t quite what I meant!” he shifted his weight to his not so good leg and hovered slightly, pained before moving back to his prefered one just pressing his back into the dark wood now instead of his side. Hands were shoved deep into his pockets, but Nicole picked up on his fingers moving beneath the fabric, his need to fiddle with something in the awkward silence that followed. She knew it would be his pocket watch, the one with a bullet lodged deep into the blemished gold, the time frozen in the moment that his heart should have stopped when he’d gritted his teeth and greeted death as an equal. But death had not come, saved by a piece of metal that Nicole had quickly pressed into his palm upon leaving Canada all those years prior. It had been a snap decision, one which ultimately saved his life. He’d never let her forget that; and still as his fingers pressed into the grooves of the long shattered glass he counted his blessings silently.
A soft smile broke out on his face, though his forehead was semi creased with a worry he’d felt for Nicole since she’d arrived in London, time and time again when she got herself into situations like this. He gestured to her ruined dress, “Too bad you couldn’t keep your dress in one piece, I already bought your gift, perhaps I was expecting too much, it is afterall your first week in a new count-” he trailed off when he saw a look in Nicole’s eyes that he’d not seen in years, a pained despair that beseeched her brother for help unsure how to let those words slip from her mouth because they were so foreign. His response was faltered, a little afraid of the emotion that laced it because if Nicole was this pained it could only mean one thing, and oh how he worried for her, the people of England were not as progressive as their home country, how could they understand that it was merely love, how would they accept her, he swallowed thickly; “How can I help?” Ethan was standing upright now, no more casual, pulling his jacket across his shoulders he watched as Nicole’s hand had ghosted against the stricken girls’ before she was standing at the desk in the corner of the room, pen flying over the parchment, folding and sealing it, she’d crossed the room in less time that it took her to write the note, presenting it to her brother before swallowing that strange feeling of fear that she’d vividly felt since seeing Waverly’s body crumple to the ground.
“Please give this to the footman, I-” there was movement behind them, a groan infused with a whimper as Waverly came to slowly and Nicole worried she’d lingered too long away from her, though that was ridiculous since it made it sound like they were more than just strangers. Because in reality, that’s all they were. So why did she feel so attached to this woman all of a sudden? Nicole cleared her throat; “I never made it to the palace, and it’s not fair to leave Alexan-... the queen waiting. She’ll understand. I hope!” Ethan’s hand clasped Nicole’s, the letter pressed between them both, his fingers soft against her gloved hand, nodding in understanding the look they shared meant Nicole didn’t need to ask as they parted ways, Nicole coming to a rest on her knees at the stricken Waverly, whose arms flail wildly presumedly hitting out at and attacker, as Ethan called for his horse in the entrance hall, Nicole remembered riding for the doctor in a completely different life.
.w.
“She’s not moved an inch, not even to drink, I’m worried she’ll become dehydrated…” a fair uniformed nurse panicked in the space around Nicole as she took in the scene around her; a frail looking Alexandrina pale and broken melting into the sheets of her bed that only barely covered her boney frame. She willed herself not to think of her as anyone other than her employer, but her heart hurt for the princess who’s entire world had been ripped from her only days ago. She listened only objectively, as the nurse continued to divulge every piece of information she had in her head of the princesses condition, staring into a space beyond the window to the deep dark night outside that billowed with heavy falling snow. They’d been snowed in for days now; a nurse, handmaiden, cook and some poor excuse for food that tasted spoiled but what else did they have. She’d emptied her stomach after every meal and now running on empty Nicole knew that she would have to ride out, she wasn’t afraid of the ride, she knew her mare could make it there and back with energy to spare. No, Nicole wasn’t worried for herself in this situation, Nicole worried that whilst she was gone Alexandrina would lose the will to keep hanging on. Only she and the princess shared the knowledge that she shared a bed with the future queen of England every night, holding onto that broken body till she’d cried herself to sleep. Only she and Nicole knew of the feelings she had towards Albert, how she did not love him and couldn’t imagine being married to him let alone having to bear his children.
Alexandrina loved the arts, she valued the opinions of others including her servants and watched in awe at the whole of nature's offerings outside of her little world trapped in royalty. She was a kind soul with a love that knew no bounds that encompassed everything around her filling her whole world and those around her with life. She was the epitome of light and love, she had so much of it to give. And give she did till one Albert waltzed onto the scene and a struggling princess had fallen for his charms in a way that found herself bed bound, the bones of her wrists sticking through the thin skin. Albert had left her for the same war that Ethan had signed up for and the day that Nicole had bid farewell to her brother on the docks, a pocket watch she’d had engraved with their surname and stuff afterwards because it was a private joke between siblings, was the same day that she returned to the country home of the princess to console her best friend who had slept with a man out of wedlock and now carried his child in her womb.
The future queen of England gave birth to Alice in one of the worst storms to hit the west coast, it beat the shoreline of their modest cottage on the edge of nowhere, a secret location where when the moment hit that the child was welcomed into the world she would be hurried away to an unknown location, one that wouldn’t know of her involvement in the royal family bar that she was a charge of one of the gentlemen in the house. Her entire existence was to be kept secret. It destroyed Alex. She never really was completely herself after that, Nicole felt powerless to do anything, taking the time to listen to her friend’s fears and her want to get to know her daughter, her only child and her damn near hatred of Albert leaving her for war with his fellow man. Nicole often wondered if Ethan and Albert crossed paths on their exploration of foreign lands, she wondered if they would know who the other was, if the connection would be made or if they would be just strangers in the mist as the bullets flew all around them.
Alice would have been two when a letter arrived by rider to the house late afternoon on that sunny October day, the rider showed no emotion as Nicole had taken the envelope from his gloved hand and she couldn’t help the fear that made her feel like she’d throw up when she’d passed that letter to Alex, when it had slipped out of her hand and the princess had crumpled to the floor, hands pressed suffocatingly tight to her face as the sobs wracked her body. Alice had died of scarlet fever only days prior. The news was both heartbreaking and world destroying, Alexandrina was barred from attending the funeral, the fear of the disease spreading was written in all those faces that had said no to her, but in the end it was Nicole’s no that had hurt the most; when Alex had hit out at her and Nicole had just stood there, taking it. Always taking it.
A couple of months later it was Nicole who had handed Alex a letter from the frontline, Albert had been killed in action; an already broken woman was further still from the help she so desperately sought, still lay bed ridden in her grief; here now as the nurse finished her limited medical findings, her soft brown eyes implored Nicole to brave the elements and ride out for the doctor. Taking a deep breath, it was exhaled just as deeply when in a few steps Nicole had crossed the room and was now caressing the back of her head, her hands wet with the damp hair that was fever burned with sweat. Nicole leant in to press a soft kiss to Alex’s forehead; “hold on sweetheart, please-” she swallowed thickly, forcing her emotions down into that hole that screamed ‘be professional’ “please, just hold on Alex, I need you to hold on just a little while longer, can you do that for me?” she wasn’t expecting an answer, she knew one wouldn’t come but still she hoped she was wrong. She wasn’t.
The night closed tight around Nicole and her mare as they galloped through the snow, the doctor was miles away but they did not falter and when Nicole knew she’d already asked so much of the little mare she audibly sobbed when she asked for just that little bit more and the mare responded with a newfound energy. The wind was bitter and if anyone would ask when she got there, why she was crying, she would blame the wind, but it was a sore excuse for her bottled up feelings. For Nicole had fallen in love with Alex all those many years ago when they were only children and neither knew of the importance that Alex would become to the world years later. Course love had really not been a thing back then, no, what Nicole had felt was just the indescribable need to be around Alex all of the time, it was confusing but it felt so real and the warmth that surrounded her heart made her realise years later what it had all meant back then.
Nicole wasn’t sure what she would do if Alex died whilst she was out in her in the blinding cold, breath clinging to her scarf, tears streaming down her face, she was a mess - it didn't matter.
She willed her mare to go faster. She had to get there. She had to.
.w.
Waverly’s hand so close to Nicole’s fingers as they batted away an imaginary foe bought Nicole back to a reality she’d blurred with the past in such a way that she wasn’t really sure she wanted to come back here, to a world without her Alex. But Waverly’s whimpers struck a chord in her that screamed for help, Waverly’s subconscious was screaming for help; her little hands batting at Nicole’s body, pushing her away as best as she could despite being in vivid nightmare that she couldn’t seem to wake up from. Nicole’s desire to sooth her was hampered with not wanting to restrain her, she could quite easily make a grab for her arms and hold them to her side as she comforted her and calmed her down but it seemed wrong somehow, she was missing something and she couldn’t believe she’d missed it when she finally lowered her gaze to the skin that slipped out beneath Waverly’s dress and the bruises in the shape of handprints littered her thighs, they covered her skin like a weird jigsaw that had no design, just ugliness.
It was only a second really.
Only a second.
Before Nicole’s hand was stroking her hair, moving the tiny strands away from her face and cooing at her like she’d calmed her down, like she’d held her as she’d cried, like she had always been there. Always. She was whispering something, not even sure what it was till she was flooded with memories of whispering the same thing to Alex when they were children; “I’ve got you, it’s okay, no one’s going to hurt you whilst I’m here” it frightened her, it was everything she never thought she would say again and all the time this was a stranger; how could she have the same feelings for someone she’d just met that mirrored those same feelings she’d felt with a woman she’d known her entire life.
It was just as Waverly was opening her eyes a little wider, taking in the scene that was before her that Nicole realised it.
Waverly burnt into Nicole’s colour the same way that Alexandrina had all those years ago. It was terrifying and exciting all at the same time and Nicole’s heart fluttered again like it hadn’t done in so long, not since, the queen of England had made her feel so alive. Not since that moment when she’d watched the younger princess step off the train in Montreal, fawn coloured hair floating away in the wind, barely visible through the smoke, a small smile spread across Nicole’s face, it’d been a while since they were kids, but Alexandrina had not changed, still the vibrant young soul she was when they’d parted ways many moons ago, when all they had to worry about was how they would possibly keep in touch now that Alex was expected to move to England and learn to run a country.
She knew then that she would protect Waverly the same way she’d protected Alexandrina.
It didn't matter that they were just strangers.