Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Nicole’s eyes graced the young Waverly Earp the smoke billowed around them as they both departed The Bristolian number 473 locomotive stepping onto the platform amidst the grandeur of Paddington Station; her fiery red hair whipped up a storm around her face it’s cardinal colour attracting every gaze that was in their vicinity; people stared unabashed, faces judged and a few exuded jealousy at the pretty little flaming red creature before them. The only one who didn’t glare, who didn’t stare at her wide eyed and mouth set agape hungry for more, was the petite young lady who she would later come to learn was the youngest of Ward Earp’s daughters, Waverly, the brunette watched Nicole with an awe that cut right through the steaming hiss of the train engine beside them, loud bustling voices and building commotion that indicated their arrival into London; their eyes connected only briefly, lingering, intense; neither smiling but both understanding what the other stranger was feeling with just one pointed look. The world literally slowed down to the the pace of her breath as she held it deep within her chest, lungs burning, stunned by this beauty that wouldn’t look away, holding her gaze passionately.

“Nicole..!”

It jogged her forcefully from her daydream, just as the brick pillar greeted her forehead with an audible ‘thud’ rendering her and her instantly starry vision momentarily dazed; searching around blindly her fogged up vision settled on the girl again, the distance between them was now a good twenty feet in the wrong direction, a worried look printed on the brunette’s face like she longed to stop and ask the redhead if she was okay, but she was bustled further away down the platform by a rough looking gentleman in a dusty brown suit, hard featured his grip on the girl’s forearm made Nicole’s forehead crinkle with concern.

“Nicole..?”

A strong hand on her arm pulled her back to reality as the shadow leaned over embracing her, pressing a small peck to her left cheek, her own hand lightly brushed over the tender bump just above her right eye, no blood, but it would leave a bruise. She focused on the stranger now, his smile warmed her heart, bringing the corners of her mouth into a smile that eventually worked its way up to her eyes as she returned the embrace and held on a little longer than she would have normally, an aching in her heart pushed emotion into her face as it flushed despite her obvious joy at seeing this familiar person again;

“Are you getting soft on me in your old age?”

“Hey!” she pulled away quicker than a hot poker and thumbed him playfully in the arm; “You’re older than me idiot!”

“Older and wiser-”

“Unlikely, older and crankier, especially when you don’t get enough sleep ehh brother?”

She ribbed him and her eyebrows raised a small smirk working its way across her lips in triumph, she’d hit the nail on the head and with a resided sigh Ethan merely nodded his defeat before he offered to carry Nicole’s case and held out his arm so that she could take it and walk with him into the heart of London.

--

“Was it bad at the end?”

His voice was soft, but she heard him and he didn’t need to clarify any further, she knew what he was asking and she was afraid to answer should she not be able to hold her composure. She let the silence beat on for a minute or two before she gripped his jacket a little tighter and swallowed hard.

“It was peaceful-

She lied.

He knew it too.

-She’s with him now, they're together and that's all that matters”

Ethan didn’t press for more information; instead he pulled her tighter into the crease of his shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

“I wish I’d have been there” his voice muffled in her hair.

“Me too” she whispered barely audible.

Truth is she hadn’t been there in the end; she’d been half way across the United States in Arizona when the news arrived by pony express, a short but sweet letter with a hard hitting truth that had sent Nicole flying out of the small dusty town on the next railroad train bound for the Canadian border. For three days she travelled in nothing but the clothes on her back and the shoes on her feet; worn down to the insoles, filthy appearance, her bright crimson hair turned reddish brown by the dirt. She was a mess and amidst the awkwardness it was refreshing, she wasn’t noticed, she wasn’t sneered at or regarded with a feeling of jealousy by other women because their suitors or husbands wouldn’t look away. She wasn’t an officer; her jacket was also covered in dust and unless you were looking you’d be hard pressed to make out her name badge let alone her ranking position. She was just a Haught, just Nicole trying to get home in time. But time and she had had their differences in the past, and time just couldn’t wait for her to say goodbye. It was the family priest who told her her mother had passed in her sleep the night before she arrived on the homestead porch. And just like that, she and Ethan were orphaned in their early twenties. After that everything in their hometown had felt foreign, she now had no fixed abode, she had had to sell the family home to pay for the funeral costs and all the while her only kin was over two thousand miles away on the other side of the world. She’d felt alone for the first time in her life and no amount of familiar places could fill that feeling, she wasn’t sure it ever would again.

Rules were stuck to like steel and women were forbidden to travel unless accompanied by a man which, understandably, infuriated Nicole. It didn’t seem to matter that even in her officers uniform which should have raised flags for her capability and status, she was still judged by her sexual organs and deemed unfit to travel alone. As morning light creaked through the blinds, the redhead was already awake, driving hairpins into her auburn locks, pinning it tight against her scalp under a top hat as she pulled the velvet black jacket over her silk shirt and rearranged the cravat, buttoning the jacket high and the last and final button secured the fabric at her neck, the soft material gently stroking her chin; tight fitted trousers and knee length socks graced the edge of her boots as black on black complimented her finished appearance; a fine young gentleman (woman) ready to make his journey to a new life in England.

And so, on the day of Winter’s first snowfall, Nicole boarded the Great Republic - a clipper ship from Boston to London, under the assumed name of Cole Haught, cane in one hand, case in the other. Nicole watched as the shore of the Americas slowly disappeared from view.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that Ethan was rich, not by any means, nor that he had a good head for business in the higher circles of London’s social hierarchy; and it most certainly wasn’t down to his wit that he had somehow managed to secure a home for he and Nicole in one of the most affluent parts of Victorian London; but as the door closed behind her and she stood in the grand foyer of number nine Belgrave Square, Nicole felt in awe of everything that her brother had accomplished. It was no secret that both Haught children had fallen to their knees for the crown of England at a very early stage in their lives. Ethan’s service had earned him a notch on a belt that Nicole had never envied, he’d been to war and barely returned with his life. A string of bullets pierced his flimsy armor hitting nearly every vital organ that wasn’t protected by bone and even then there was still that bullet lodged in his ribcage directly above his heart. Yet, wounded to within an inch of his life he carried his fallen comrade in arms the three hundred metres over the barbed wire barricade to safety; blinded the only kindness his comrade could offer in return was a house that he could no longer see or enjoy in a bustling city that with every loud noise flashed him back to the scenes he’d witnessed when the war began. He’d made Ethan promise that if he were to sell that it be to someone less fortunate than he and so it would always be passed down and never passed up through the social order.

Nicole pulled the navy blue bonnet from her head, red locks billowing out, the hairpins long gone just as the suit that was packed away in her case; though in herself she felt more comfortable in the velvet jacket and long knee high boots, silken blouse swishing underneath it’s close cut arms, she had to made an effort to pass as a lady in this city, it was tough getting ready on the train, remembering to put on a petticoat and that distinct pressure around her waist that made her realise just how much she didn’t miss the tightness of the corset that sat neatly below her breast. She struggled with the urge to undress right there and then if only in a desperate need to breathe and expand her lungs properly. Feeling awkward and definitely overdressed she watched silently as maids and servants shuffled about behind the scenes moving from the stairwell to the kitchen and back towards her into the lounge area where Ethan had disappeared off to. This felt a hundred more times foreign than the life she’d left back in Canada, she wondered if it was okay to break the silence but her mind and mouth weren’t thinking in sync and before she had a chance to stop herself, Nicole all but blurted;

“So is the rule here that I can have any room I want because I’m a guest?”

“Nice try!”

Came the response from behind her sending her nerves into oblivion dropping her case so that it clattered on the pristine tiled floor; Nicole swallowed audibly as the whole household had stopped to stare directly at her.

“Hey..”

She offered in a deep Canadian drawl, not imagining the way that every eye was piercing through her right at that second.

“So… mind showing me to my room?”

She turned to her brother and half grinned awkwardly half glared in his direction to which she received a mischievous smile by return. He grabbed the noisy case from the hallway floor and hand pressed to the small of her back guided his sister forwards into the main atrium of the house, it’s domed ceiling some four floors above them bled sunlight down into a small pool of lighter coloured tiles at the base of a large sweeping staircase that hugged the walls as it swept her eyes into heaven high above them.

“Just one thing though-

He ushered her towards what she could only deduce was the study,

This came for you yesterday”

He finished as he pressed an official looking letter into the palm of her hand; the calligraphy inked writing addressed her as “Ms Haught” her fingers moved over the wax seal at the back, trying to make out the mark in the indentations, she caught her brothers eye,

“What did you do”

It wasn’t a question, not really, she already knew the answer but she wanted to hear him say it, all he did was smile and tap the letter lightly, scratching the back of his head with his other hand,

“Just read it-

Pausing but nodding slowly he added in a more serious tone now,

You’re worth more to her here than you ever were overseas”

Ethan held her gaze for a minute more in silence; she could read him like a book and the prospect was both exciting and terrifying. Ethan was the only one she’d told about her time in the Mounted Police up in Ontario way before she’d ever joined the army on the frontier in Arizona. Ottawa was another world away now, though she remembered it vividly and fondly, the time held a secret that she was certain would have her killed out here should it become common knowledge.

With as deep a breath as she could muster in the corset, Nicole turned the letter over and picked at the ruby red wax seal. The indentations confirmed her earlier conclusion.

It had come directly from Buckingham Palace.

Nicole’s fingers felt numb as they eased the letter from its envelope, the thick ink strokes made it difficult to read in the light of the study, without hesitation she crossed the hallway to stand under the direct light of the domed skylight and took a deep breath;

Dear Ms Nicole Haught,

Her Royal Majesty Queen Victoria requests your company in confidence to discuss your emigration to the United Kingdom of Great Britain from her sister country Canada; it is with great pleasure that you be offered the same or similar position m as held overseas here in London.

It is of utmost importance than this letter not be discussed with anyone other than the intended recipient. For debts previously unpaid, one shall be expected to accept this offer as payment-
...

Nicole spluttered, unaware she’d been holding her breath the entire time; there was more to the page than just the words she’s furiously flurried through not believing her eyes as to what had been written and in such a casual letter from the queen herself.

Please accept this meeting by return and a carriage will be sent to collect you.

Yours sincerely,

Alexandrina Victoria

“Alexandrina..”

Nicole hummed the name softly, it had been such a long long time ago.

Chapter Text

“Babygirl..?”

There was a small knock on the door, Wynonna’s voice behind it startled Waverly from her reverie. The handle jiggled slightly indicating that her older sister wished to come in.

“Just a second..”

Waverly’s voice cracked raw with emotion, pulling the silken blouse down to cover the dark finger marks that sat crookedly just inside the crease of her elbow. Hands wiping roughly at the furious tears that painted her skin a blotchy red, she wouldn’t be able to cover this up this time; if she didn’t let her older sister in right now she would know and there was a little inch of Waverly that hoped she would because then she wouldn't have to cope with it alone anymore.

Her fingers fumbled with the key in the lock as she opened the door to see Wynonna standing with a pail of water and dressings in her hands a pained look on her face at the sight of the tears on her baby sisters cheeks; her own bottom lip was starting to tremble in anguish for Waverly as the younger girl ushered her sister inside and swiftly locked the door behind her only to turn standing propped against the hard oak afraid to move lest she have to divulge everything that she’d kept a secret for the last two years.

Wynonna set the pail on the dresser and slowly put the dressings on Waverly’s bed before motioning to her to come closer; Waverly’s heart burst through her walls and she swallowed audibly, eyes searching Wynonna’s for any hint of disapproval - she found none, only sympathy and love.

“Let me see..”

Wynonna held out her hand for Waverly’s arm, stepping closer so as to close the gap and offer comfort. Her fingers pulled at the silken blouse and lifted it up to reveal what Waverly had been hiding and winced in her stead

“It’s not as bad as it looks Wynonna.. Honestly it’s nothing.. just a little mark”

Waverly’s words could have fallen on deaf ears as Wynonna’s head shot up and stared at her in despair dipped in an equal measure of frustrated anger, her mouth wordlessly moving as she tried to find the right words to get Waverly to understand;

“This..”

She stroked her fingertips against the dark bloodied bruise eliciting a wince from her sister.

“..is not nothing Waverly”

Her other hand cupped her sister's face, thumb stroking at the new fresh tears that spilled over her thinly veiled hurt. Pulling the younger girl into a hug, gently caressing her bruised skin as she stroked her hair and stood firm when Waverly’s barriers fell down around her. Wynonna projected her comfort in the only way she knew how;

“I’ll kill him Waves, I promise”

--

Nicole pulled the mask from her face roughly with her left hand, breathing hard, her sabre clasped in her right hand, swinging at her side. Nodding wordlessly in Ethan’s direction;

“You caught me out there..

She breathed as she grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it hard as a show of goodwill for him winning the game they’d been playing for the last hour and a half, she wasn’t one to give up without a fight but it had been ages since the last time she’d played let alone with her brother who had had another three years training under his belt.

“It’s been forever and a day since the last time I dualed, I fear I might be losing my touch just a little bit, especially as you appear to be an old hat at this!”

She chuckled as the sabre was set in the cabinet of swords and her mask placed just below them in the trunk at the base of a large fencing statue that Ethan now hung his jacket from before peeling the protective garments off his body, leaving a thin silk entirely black bodysuit that hugged every contour of his muscled physique.

“You ought to get your practice in you know, what if the Queen asks you to be on her service?”

Ethan pressed pointedly, taking note of the way Nicole scoffed at the thought.

“Tell me Ethan, have you seen pigs fly lately? Didn’t think so..! I’d imagine the most she’d ask me is to do is be a footman; she is afterall the Queen, she can’t have a woman in her cavalry, it would be far from practical and I’m sure very very illegal..”

She pulled the bodice over her head and shimmied it down her body, tucking the relevant pieces into place as she adjusted her navy blue shoulder scarf and pulled the thick white tights higher up her thigh, securing them in place, she ruffled the silken skirt around her waist, smoothing the fabric with her hands and stood back glancing at the full length mirror in the corner of the makeshift changing room. Eliciting a deep drawn out sigh she looked Ethan dead in the eyes;

“I look ridiculous!”

She did not mirror the smirk that crossed across his face as he tried to keep from smiling at her obvious state of annoyance,

“I look like a meringue!”

“A very delicate meringue… besides that colour suits you, and it’s a uh.. Pretty dress; which, if you can stay in it for the entire afternoon, all of it, those lovely shoes included, there will be a surprise waiting for you when you get home.”

Exasperated Nicole’s eyes narrowed at him, bribery, she was ashamed to admit it but it worked as she held her hand out for the leather folder he held that in turn contained everything about her life before England. It wasn’t stacks of paper but it was enough to make her twenty seven years look entirely too colourful and something the size of what you would expect of a fifty year old.

The golden hands of the grandfather clock at the top of the stairs from the basement hit their hour marker and chimed with a toll of 1500hrs just as the doorbell jingled before the door opened and a footman stood with pride on those marble steps that she herself had only stood on days before staring up at the house in awe.

“Ms Haught”

He addressed her formally with a curt nod.

“Your carriage awaits.”

He waited, stock still, dead straight posture - one hand behind his back, the other bent at a right angle in front of her as she hesitantly took it within her gloved one, allowing him to lead her down the steps to the waiting carriage. It was foreign to her, it made her feel uncomfortable, even more so than the fact that she was dressed up like a princess, the dress felt too thin in the cooling Winter air, glad now that she’d slipped a pair of breeches on under the skirt. Every inch of her wanted to make him wait whilst she heaved that dress off and pulled on her normal formal attire, the attire she was used to wearing in the states whilst she was on duty, surely her uniform suit would have been just as appropriate, but she reminded herself that she was in London now, and in London the women wore dresses. Though it pained her, she breathed deep into the bodice corset pressed hard against her ribcage and climbed into the waiting carriage.

It’s interior was floor to ceiling red velvet, trimmed at the edges in golden threads and ornate cushions that squeaked as she shuffled backwards to lean into the seat. Faces stared at her from the street, and she felt entirely too exposed knowing full well that people would talk and a lot of those people knew she had been there less than a week but was already being called to the palace.

“Alexandrina, Victoria..”

She muttered, in an attempt to obscure the faces and concentrate on what she would be expected to say when she was in residence. Though Nicole had known her in an informal capacity all those many years ago, she always addressed her as her real name, she had to now remind herself that she was not only talking to a queen, but talking to her Queen. Queen Victoria.

As the carriage made headway, it rocked side to side lulling her into a sleepy shade of comfort in the slightly warming winter sun that peeked out from behind the buildings of Belgravia, wheels bumping over the cobbled streets and a distant sound of horse's hooves on the stonework. She began to feel some kind of weird normality of comfort; horses were a massive part of her life on the frontline back in the states, she had grown up with them featuring in her life in one way shape or form from the time she was a tiny toddler, the sound made her feel like perhaps this giant move she’d made across the ocean was starting to feel like a good idea, even if only slightly. The rhythmic sound of hooves, swaying and warmth took her back to a memory she thought she’d buried with the rest of them; it was the turning of the seasons, summer to fall and the smell of crisp mornings, with the crunch of leaves at her feet; she was suddenly transported to the state room of the parliament building in Quebec City, a heavy robe lay unobstructed on the back of a tall backed chair to the left of her as the handmaiden was ushered out of the room and Alexandrina stood draped in only a light chiffon dress the colour of opalite breathing hard directly in front of her. Nicole remembered handing her a piece of paper that she never found out on what was written; she watched vividly how their hands had touched as she placed it into Alexandrina’s hand and watched as the lady’s fingers started to shake upon reading what was on the page. When Nicole had swallowed hard and backed away slightly not wanting to make it awkward; but Alexandrina had stopped her, her hand reaching out for hers as the tears started to fall and Nicole couldn’t pull away.

A flash of the colour yellow caught her eye and pulled her back to reality; the way the sunshine bounced off this buoyant colour made everything in it’s immediate vicinity glow; at the sight of which Nicole found a small smile creeping into the corners of her lips; she loved the beauty of it in the dull shadows of the streets they passed by in a blur. She allowed her gaze to drift higher to the face of the person who wore the ray of sunshine and didn’t immediately connect the dots, the girl was pretty with mousey brown hair that lightly kissed her shoulders before cascading down her back in a flowing repetition that Nicole couldn’t pull her eyes away from if she tried. Rosy cheeked the girl wasn’t much younger than her she guessed but thinner, petite, slight, she couldn’t help but smile a little more now, flushing a bit at her collarbone, hushing little butterflies in her stomach, she recognised beauty when she saw it and this little thing she remembered now was the girl she’d locked eyes with on the station platform, her green eyes shining, watching her and by return she couldn’t tear her eyes away, just like now.

And then she fell.

The colour yellow exploded all around her as she dropped to the floor like a deadweight with a heaviness that thudded deep inside Nicole’s heart.

“Stop the carriage!”

Her hand was on the golden door handle before the rest of the words had even made it out of her mouth. Nicole’s heart beat heavy in her throat as she pushed herself from the carriage unsure even now if it had even stopped before she hit the ground already running in the direction of the girl who no-one else seemed to notice was in trouble. Feeling a light tugging and hearing a ripping sound Nicole was only vaguely aware that the skirt of her dress was no longer wrapped around her ankles and that she had free movement to sprint to the girls’ unmoving body.

Her breeches ripped at the knee when she knelt at the slight figure, fingertips brushing the mousey brown hair away from her face, it’s flushed pink staining her cheeks would have been pretty in any other situation. Nicole’s other hand set lightly against the smaller girl's waist as she pulled her into the protection of her own body cradling her head in lap as she stroked her face softly;

“Hey..”

It wasn’t more than a whisper but it was creased with worry that mirrored the lines on her forehead as her eyes searched for any movement. She was aware of people then, crowding around her and the stricken girl. Her heart beating louder in her ears flooding out all and everything around her but the feel of the girl's pulse against her forefingers pressed lightly against her neck. The slow rise and fall of her chest and the subtle fluttering of eyelashes, a hint of green peeking through, staring unfocused into Nicole’s deep brown ones, she smiled softly hoping to indicate she wasn’t of any harm to her; and with a second whisper...

“Are you with me?”

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.