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Chapter Text

London Mayfair: An exclusive event for those of means.

Under the cover of darkness, an unlikely pair discreetly slip beyond the guards at the event of the year – A night at the Versailles Masquerade Ball

“How utterly ghastly! The outfits! The music! I am simply agog, if this dance were actually held in France, not one of these pretenders would get their unsightly hooves through the door!

Lady Eularia Moggerhanger, not a woman to mince her words nor offer kindness in place of a brutal, sledgehammer’s crash of honesty.

“The French take partying to a whole new level.” Raising her chin and narrowing her eyes, the lady Moggerhanger looked down her nose at the gathered lower league toffs.

“Not one of these piss ants is from real money nor breeding.”

“Oh, will you just shut your bloody pie hole!” Nell sighed, already exasperated by her newly forged alliance with the print news entrepreneur.

“Miss Jackson, when someone says costume party, one can’t just throw on some cheap bedsheets and claim it to be a Roman toga!  No, one should go all out and rent a high-end custom gown, especially for the last night at the Versailles Masquerade ball.

Nell glanced about the lofty hall. Her eyes rolled as the collected cesspit of money, privilege and title fawned falsely all over one another, all whilst donning the most ridiculous looking outfits.

“You know them big wire things they're all wearing?”  Nell rudely pointed at a gaggle of girls across the dance floor.

Peering down the length of her pointed nose, Eularia inspected the girls in question.

“Those mimic the girl’s hips, yea? Why would any woman wanna make-em’ selves look fatter?

A great tut and drawn-out sigh billowed like hot steam from the print mogul.

 “They go under the dresses and stick out like that to accentuate the female figure. The curves and twists of a womanly shape are most appealing to men. Not that you’d be even slightly interested by their propositions.” The lady chuckled to herself.

“What you getting at?” Nell frowned.

From behind her glittering mask, the lady Moggerhanger raised a brow, running a knowing gaze over Nell’s choice of masculine attire, as opposed to the perfectly agreeable frock the lady herself had picked out for the snake-hipped renegade.

“Honestly, the number of times some love-struck harlot mistakes you for a man.”

“I can pass for either and you’re just jealous of that.” Nell folded her arms defensively.

“Oh, of course. I’m just desperate to look like a male pre-pubescent chimney sweep.”

Both women startled as a sudden yap sounded out from within the confines of the billowing silk of the lady Moggerhanger’s dress.

Blushing, she turned to face Nell.

“You know, what’s great about all that extra space for the hips?  It’s perfect for storage.”

The yap sounded out once more.

From beyond her decorative mask, the white of Nells eyes illuminated as she zoned in on the source of the high-pitched bark.

“Tell me you ain’t brought that fuckin dog in here.” Nell sighed.

Pursing her lips and stamping a high-end heel upon the floorboards, the lady let her upset be known.

“I simply won’t be without her.” Moggerhanger snapped through an angry whisper.

“Well, that’s it. This is where we fuckin die, inn it?” Nell shoulders sank as she scanned the clustered bodies that suddenly convened upon the dance floor, as a quick paced music sounded out from the stage.

This ball, it was the last place on earth Nell wanted to be. The crimes of Isambard Tulley would not go unanswered it seemed. Despite his heroics in battling Poynton, the thief and galivant had returned to his criminal ways once more, finding himself yet again a target of the law.

 “He has to be here.” The lady discreetly whispered as Nell backed off from the dancefloor.

“I don’t know why you bother with him. Devereux’s a chancer. He’s probably nobbling some other silly old tart now.”

“And you promised you’d help me find him so I might catch him in the act and chop off an entirely different sort of ball.

 Nell let out a cheery laugh.

“Now, that would be worth seeing.” Now I remember why I said yes to helping you.”

The lady herself now chuckled, looping an arm through Nell’s as the highway woman began to lead the lady away from the dance floor.

“If that dog bites me, I’m gonna shoot it and put a hole in this ridiculous looking dress of yours.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” The lady poked Nell hard in the ribs.

“Alright, keep your hair on! Let’s look for Tulley and get the hell out of here.” Nell sighed as she tugged the lady along in a quick stride.

Moggerhanger suddenly stopped and gasped aloud as a stunning vision of a lady wrapped in blue silk caught her eye.

“Now, that is a woman from good stock! That’s aristocracy right there; I can smell the fortune and good breeding.”

Nell's eyes followed the path of Eularia’s gaze…that’s when she saw her.

A perfectly fitting bodice captured the toned, sculptured shoulders and delicate collarbone of a fine lady indeed. Nell’s curious stare fixated, then her mind wandered briefly into carnal thought. Hazel eyes trailed over a delightful swell of breasts made rounder and more inviting by the vice-like grip of that corset, cinching her waist and making it narrow. The constrictiveness above then softened below into a far more liberated eruption of silk trailing down female, shapely thighs and over thick hips. Hypnotically, the hem of the dress began to swish elegantly upon the smooth oak flooring, as this alluring woman walked.

Nell swallowed hard as the masked mystery woman seemed to catch her roving eye. She was a glorious vision indeed.

Dark ringlets of raven hair fell carelessly and without order, ending just above the curve of her rear, a rear made bigger and comelier by the cut of her dress. More wires, no doubt, Nell surmised.

“Oh, she’s just splendid. The sexual energy …its off the chart. I know chemistry. I know smutty liaisons that sell papers and naughty erotic books. She is the most unapologetic bomb burst of sexuality; all wrapped up in dignified silence forced on her by the constraints of her class. Yet, that is a woman that knows what she wants and is looking right at it as we speak.”

“What you talking about? She’s got a mask on. You don’t know where she is looking!”

“I’m rather afraid I do. She is looking at you, Miss Jackson.”

“Yap-yap” The concealed pooch seemed to agree.

“So help me, I’m fixing to take a proper swing for you.”

“Now, now, Nelly.” Eularia mocked.

“Don’t call me that.”  Nell groaned.

“Oh, sweet Jesus. She’s coming over!” Moggerhanger giggled.

Indeed, the pale skinned, dark haired beauty seemingly floated towards their position, turning the heads of all as she passed by.

“God, she’s riddled with some sort of magnetic power, if I were that way inclined, I’d fuck her senseless myself,”

Such was Lady Moggerhanger's confession; Nell spat out a mouthful of wine, much to the lady's cackle of laughter.

“What makes you think that I’m…that way inclined?” Nell mumbled, hands in pockets as her eyes looked to the floor rather than the grinning Eularia.

“Oh, please. You claiming to be heterosexual is just as preposterous as me claiming to be working class.” The lady shivered at the thought of being considered even remotely common.

“I’m not… that way!”  Nell aggressively whispered.

“Well then. You’re about to disappoint this lovely lesbionic creature swooping down upon you.”

“You’re wrong. She probably thinks I’m a man.”  Nell sarcastically snorted.

“No, I sense something altogether sapphic about this one.”

“Sapphic? What the hell does that mean?” Nell shrugged.

“I’m going to look for my betrothed.” Eularia sought her escape.

“No! Don’t you dare leave me!”  Nell reached out for a surprisingly nimble lady Moggerhanger.

“You will be fine. Just let the most utterly stunning woman in all of Christendom down gently. What with you not being that way inclined and all.” Again, from beyond her mask the lady rolled her eyes.

“Shit.” Nell blew out a breath as the stranger now stood mere feet away. Staring.

Nell stood a little straighter under this refined woman’s scrutiny. Puffing out her chest and bringing her arms behind her back. She was glad of the mask. The longer this woman’s ice blue eyes surveyed her form, the more her cheeks glowed red with heat. She was from the top of the toff leagues. Moggerhanger was right about that. The elevated strong jawline. The better than you stance and stoicism radiated from within. Such arrogant posture.

Adjusting her own stance, Nell allowed herself to covet the tempting form once more. Staring at this woman’s feet then travelling up the shimmering blue fine silk of her dress. It was beautiful. Nell clenched her hands into tight fists, as if stopping herself from reaching out and placing a firm hold upon the vixen. Her breasts were exaggerated, Nell knew herself that a corset was an all together misleading contraption yet still, the woman’s skin was pale, vampiric and without imperfection. The appealing swell of each breast caused the renegade to lick her lips.

From behind her expensive, glittering mask, the appraisal was not lost on the good lady. Good, if only Nell knew the truth of who stood before her. Good is not a word she would use freely.

“Is it entirely inappropriate of me to invite you to dance?” The woman dared. Holding out a gloved hand.

That voice was low and gruff, but her words were eloquent and exceptionally well spoken. She was highly educated and well-read, the polar opposite of Nell, whose street smarts and wit made up for her lack of academia.

Nell knew that dark, raspy tone but could not place it.

“Why would it be inappropriate?” Nell looked to conceal her commoner accent.

The lady edged closer, closing the space that remained between the two.

“Because for a lady to ask a man to dance is most unorthodox.” Nell’s heart briefly sank. Did this woman believe her to be male? As disheartened as Nell was, she would soon find her mood greatly lifted and her disappointment brief.

Nell’s blood pressure raised as the dark stranger stepped in closer, bringing plump lips to the highway woman's ear.

“But one would imagine asking another woman to dance is even more daring and outrageous, some might say sinful.”

Nell swallowed hard as she felt this bold creature take her hand in her own, briefly stroking it. The renegade glanced downwards as a light glance of a caress from a hand sheathed in leather suddenly called her blood to simmer in her veins. Leather, another bold choice for a lady as opposed to silk. The touch was precise and reeked of intent as if starting some secret handshake between the two of them.

“Again, may I invite you to dance with me? Would you have me ask a third time I wonder.”

Nell was frozen to the spot and dizzy as her blood flow plummeted south. She was caught in this woman’s orbit and feeling herself already so willing to submit to her request.”

All Nell Jackson could manage was a nod.

A polite curtsy and bow came before either party could permit themselves to link arms. A traditional show dance ensued where lines of couples danced the same routine. Linking arms, then joining hands, but at all times keeping their bodies from pressing together. To hold your partner in close quarters in such a public setting was nothing short of vulgar. So, the strangest choreography proceeded from all. Touching fingertips and allowing only the flirtatious pressing together of palms, all at arm’s length of course.

“These masks…it’s nice to have some level of anonymity, isn’t it? No one knowing who you are. Your past deeds, your… mistakes. The Lady softly spoke. That voice, Nell knew this voice.

Nell spun the lady gracefully into an artful twirl, before bringing her back into hold. A scandalous coming together of hip bones and tummy’s touching could not be helped. This woman was indeed magnetic, Nell couldn’t help but glance down at the increasing pace of rise and fall of those heaving breasts. Again, her coveting did not go unnoticed by her dance partner.

Again, the dark-haired stunner brought her lips close to Nell’s ear, offering up confession.

“I always thought you rather attractive, Nell Jackson.” She purred, placing a soft hand on Nell’s chest, feeling her heart beating erratically under her ribcage.

Nell suddenly stepped back, running a rapid head to toe scan of her tempter. That voice! All at once, Nell remembered …

“Wilmot!” Nell snarled, but still did not retreat from her enemy.

“Yes, but let’s not do anything rash, Nell Jackson.” Sofia tugged Nell back into her arms.

“As I was saying, it seemed somewhat ill-timed and misplaced in our previous predicament to compliment your … really quite handsome features.” From behind the mask. The lady smirked as she discreetly squeezed Nell’s slender, firm bicep.

“Previous predicament!” Your brother murdered my father and you set me up!” Nell now raised her voice. The lady Wilmot at once sought to subdue her prey.

“Hush now. Let’s not cause a scene. If I say I regret my previous actions, will you simply think me a liar?”

Temper rising, Nell pulled Sofia firm to her, squeezing her waist tightly in both hands and causing the shorter woman to gasp pleasantly. The sudden forced contact and coming together of bodies began to draw attention. Nell’s pistol jutted out and prodded the lady Wilmot, pushing through into her layers of silk.

“I’m armed!” Nell warned.

“I have noticed. Your weapon is well-placed and causing the most pleasant sensation. I implore you… see if you can’t get a little more cross with me.” A devilish smile shone from behind the mask.

“You’re a liar and proven dangerous!  I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you or that rat brother of yours!”

The lady Wilmot boldly laced her arms around Nell’s slender shoulders. Pressing herself up against her aggressor as to diffuse the concern from those dotted around their position that she was not being taken against her will.

Nell did very little to uncouple herself from Sofia's viperous hold. The Lady Wilmot still felt the firm grip of Nell's hands. She looked into fiery eyes as Nell’s pupils blew outwards in dark circles of arousal. Nell had never been this close and intimate with a woman before, not anyone, really. Not like this.

“I knew you were like me as soon as I first laid eyes on you. That we are the same sort of creature.” The lady whispered as Nell continued to sink into her dance partner.

“I’m nothing like you! You and your brother are nothing but dark rogues.” Nell sneered.

Sofia slipped off a leather glove, Nell’s breath caught in her throat though as the lady Wilmot’s painted nails slipped into the folds of her shirt. A gentle, calming caress was imposed upon Nells bare, vulnerable flesh as sharp nails gently dragged over heated skin.

“That’s not what I meant. How do I put it?” The lady Wilmot sighed. “I think for once, you and I are on the same team… of sorts. We share the same…closeted preference.” She whispered. Taking note of how Nells eyes still lingered on her breasts and leant into her soft touch.

“What do you want, Wilmot?”  Nell glanced down into blown out pupils encircled by a deeper shade of blue than earlier.

“I wish to dance with the knowledge that not one of these controlling male idiots realises I am in the arms of a strong woman…happily.”

Nell looked about the room. It was tempting to offer out silent rebellion to the gathered pigs and bigots about the great hall. And for all her mistrust, having the Wilmot woman in her arms felt, dare Nell think it…right.

Momentarily, they swayed in hold. Even though the fast pace of the fiddler’s bow did not meet the slow sensual rhythm of hip from both women. The lady Wilmot’s arms still laced around Nell’s shoulders, leaning closer.

“But after this moment of pleasure ends… I need your help.” Sofia’s tone saddened.

“Why would I help you?” Nell scoffed but was less inclined to protest at the lady Wilmots further seductions.

“Because you’re the hero of the piece.” Sofia laid her head on Nell’s chest briefly as their gentle waltz continued.

“Right. If I’m the hero, then that makes you the baddy, don’t it? And you think I am going to set you right, change you?  I’ve never heard a story like that with a happy ending.” Nell whispered.

“Maybe this one will,” The lady Wilmot smiled behind her mask. Nell saw a sparkle in her dance partners eyes that gave away her grinning features beneath as she pulled back. The two now weighing each other up.

Nell delayed, momentarily doubting her better instinct.

“I don’t trust you. You’re up to no good. You’re too dark, I saw how powerful you got. You were really quick and eager to rule” Nell grumbled.

“Perhaps I can prove you wrong.” The lady whispered.

“What have you done now? You and that filth brother of yours” Nell’s curiosity was peeked.

“Thomas is missing, thanks to you, we’re both hunted by more than just the crown. I am afraid, Nell Jackson.  I just want your protection. As soon as Thomas is located, I shall take my leave if I bother you so.”

Nell quirked a brow, her eyes lingering in mistrust as the Lady Wilmot held her gaze.

“There are those among us that would rather I pledge my powers to the dark. Lord Poynton left quite the vacancy in the office of dark art and magic I … I don’t want that but it’s hard to resist.

Again, Nell eyed her nemesis with mistrust.

“Help me find Thomas, please Nell.” The lady cooed.

 At that, the doors to the great hall burst open. An unsettling shriek called out from the ladies first confronted by the intruders. A loud bang sounded out as a warning shot was fired up into the air, causing the more delicate in the room to scream and run for cover.

Nell glanced down as she felt the Lady Wilmot’s touch once more. Seeking Nell’s protection, she stood much closer to Nell, placing a hand on her forearm, pulling herself into Nell’s body as if it might shield her from harm.  She was uneasy, Nell would not think this formidable woman scared, but she seemed at least on the surface unable to defend herself nowadays. 

“Right then!” A hooded goon called out.

“We want one thing and one thing only!” The ringleaders accomplice began to hand out flyers.

“Devereux! The disgraced traitor to the crown and Jacobite!” A great cry sounded out.

“That’s right…I said Jacobite! He’s here, we’re certain of it.

“Damn it!” Nell snapped. Gaining the lady Wilmots attention

“And here I was thinking they were looking for me.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Typical Toff. You all think everything is about you.”

“And your kind think you’re always so hard done by and destitute.” She quickly replied.

“My kind? You mean normal folk that you lot keep bleeding dry.” Nell’s retort was more rapid than her ladies.

“Masks off!” The goon bellowed.

The Lady Wilmot suddenly glanced at the exit. Her previous relief replaced quickly by panic.

“Now you’re worried, ain’t ya.” Nell couldn’t help but tease.”

The Lady Wilmot set off for the door, only to find Nell catch her arm and halt her retreat.

“Alright, I’ll help ya. But let’s get a few things straight.”

“As you wish.” The lady hastily replied as the goons closed in.

“I don’t trust ya. I don’t like ya. And I ain’t…. that way.” Nell stammered the latter.

“Very well, clearly my body is betraying me. I’m not usually wrong but… if you say so. I shall refrain from making further …accusations. The lady released her hold on Nell. Stepping back and changing her manner towards her completely. Nell felt something inside of her call out in protest as the Lady Wilmot was seemingly no longer open to her touch.

“But i shall have you made aware, Nell Jackson…I never ask a woman to dance a third time.” Sofia bluntly confirmed.

The goons close in.

“Quick…out into the garden.” Nell gestured towards the open doors leading to the patio beyond

Chapter Text

Sofia Wilmot is the haughtiest of women . She is blatantly and disdainfully proud and seized by an attitude of superiority and contempt for people or things she perceives to be inferior. An arrogant aristocrat. A regal beauty that ever deigned to notice us, the little people.

Right now, the very same strident Sofia Wilmot was shaken with anxiety.

“Would you care to explain our next move, Miss Jackson?” Sofia stood impatiently, hands on hips.

Scanning the six-foot garden walls, Nell was far from deterred by the lack of doorways and easy exit.

“You've led us into a dead end!”

“Alright! Keep your bloody hair on, your ladyship.” Sofia’s eyes narrowed scornfully upon Nell as an altogether misogynistic tone left the highwaywoman's lips.

Surveying the Ivy-clad brickwork for footholds or anything with which to find purchase, Nell noted a somewhat lower section of wall bordering the many passageways and cobbled lanes surrounding the Mayfair Hall.

Pressing her back firmly into the stonework, Nell lowered herself to one knee, clasping her hands together into a makeshift step so she might propel the wanted villain over the high brickwork and into the secluded darkness of the labyrinth streets of foggy London.

Sofia quickly scanned Nell’s posture, immediately understanding her intent. The aristocrat furrowed her brow in opposition.

“Come on! Move your arse then!” Nell gestured to her lowered knee, her fingers still knotted together and ready to boost.

Nell let an altogether exasperated sigh leave her lips as she saw hesitance and displeasure in Sofia’s stance.

“What? You can't possibly be serious. This is pure silk from the New World! Sofia’s voice lifted an octave; she touched her belly and lovingly brushed the soft material. “I shan't be scaling nor scrambling over walls in some ill-advised prison break!

Nell’s posture sank into dismay as she collapsed back into the wall with a huff, realising Sofia had no intention of following her instructions. This woman was stubborn, awkward, and downright infuriating.

“Where did you get that dress anyway? You’re supposed to be on the run.”

“I had to endure the indignity of breaking into my own estate. Thanks to you, I had to raid my own closet in the hours of darkness like some common... highwaywoman.” Sofia dared as she gestured in Nell’s direction.

“Thanks to me! Oh! … it's got nothing to do with you trying to kill the BLOODY QUEEN then!”

Nell raised her voice, briefly gaining the attention of one of the goons accosting a Lady of means within the dancehall. Sofia set forward with a snarl on her lips; such was her discontent at Nell foolishly drawing attention to their position. She urgently sought to hush the irritated barkeep's daughter.

“Why do poor people surmise they’ll become more articulate by shouting louder? Might I suggest it just makes you all appear even more thick in the head and illiterate!!” Sofia angrily fired her insults at a wound-up Nell.

“And why do Toff’s think using big words makes them better and closer to god? You're just bandits in fancy clothes with your big houses full of pretty things stolen from the “new world” …. Nothing you have was ever yours! You’re all just bloody pirates!”

Nell had not noticed her proximity to Sofia; in anger, she’d set forward also. Her face in the brunettes, their noses almost touching to the point Nell now smelled the sweet tang of fermented grape on this Woman’s breath. This close, the Wolfish blue of the equally enraged Wilmot woman’s eyes glinted, momentarily interrupting Nell’s thoughts. This Woman’s fixed predatory glare was so... distracting. Had Nell forgotten where they were? What was she doing? Sofia cast her gaze down briefly to Nell's mouth as the Lady herself found her thoughts jammed by some imperceivable force. Sofia absentmindedly ran her tongue over her lips as she struggled to take her thoughts from the swollen flesh of Nells. By God, in this moment, how she wanted to silence her prey by pressing her mouth upon this maddening woman’s.

“This isn't going to work, the two of us in alliance. How foolish of us both to think it possible,” Sofia freely admitted in a faint whisper, stepping back from Nell casually.

Nell stepped back also, forgetting herself as her countenance reeked of fevered aggression. She stood fist-clenched before Sofia.  

Sofia’s attention was taken from a heated Nell by the cry of a woman confronted by a thug. They were drawing closer and closer to the wanted woman’s position, and she really ought to decide quickly.

“This has been fun, but I do not relish an appointment at the gallows. I shall once again make my own escape, Miss Jackson. Even if I must use these torrid gifts to fight my way out!” Sofia’s eyes darkened as she took strides away from Nell.

“Oi! No you don’t!!” Nell moved briskly to intercept the sorceress’s imminent attack.

Sofia glanced down as Nell's rough, calloused grip caught her forearm. That same panicked grasp softened to a light hold soon after their flesh touched, lulling the scoundrel in Sofia back down to earth.

“Just go over the bloody wall. There is a carriage at the end of Duke Street. We can meet up with Moggers there.  I won't let you hurt anyone else with whatever Witchcraft Poynton taught you.

“He didn’t teach me anything; this power was already in me. I was perhaps already a witch long before he and I crossed paths, Miss Jackson.” Sofia's eyes shone as dark pools of ancient black magic. Again, she began to tug from Nell’s tight hold, but Nell furthered a commanding clasp once more.

“Over the wall, now! All this power, and you’re worried about a soddin’ dress! These lot are the ones that put you Ladies in these gowns in the first place, ain’t they? The men in your world. The toff world. Make her look all pretty, but by God, keep her quiet. Heaven forbid she starts yapping or has an opinion. Shut up in silk... but Christ, she looks lovely.”

Sofia succeeded in snatching her arm from Nell’s arrest, cursing herself for still allowing this delinquent robber to delay her departure. What was it about this tomboyish commoner that had a woman as steadfast in opinion as Sofia Wilmot dillydallying?

“As I recall, this dress rather got your attention too, did it not!” Are you any better?” Sofia struggled to hold back her growing fury. Momentarily, Nell looked wounded.

“I'm really hoping you didn’t mean that. I'm nothing like the men in your world.”

Sofia regretted her comment instantly,

“No, of course. You absolutely are not.” She retracted.

An awkward silence ensued as the cries for help in the great hall increased in volume. Now, that chaos was mere muffled background noise between the two unlikely cohorts.

Sofia softly whispered into the confines of the moonlit garden.

“Why will you not let me take my leave?”

“You asked for my help and I'm trying, but bloody hell, you ain't half making it tough,” Nell jeered.

Sofia's eyes momentarily could not hold Nells; her gaze darted about the patio area as she still digested the thief's earlier words. Shut up in silk, how accurate a description of the young Sofia’s upbringing. Married off as a child, betrothed to a man almost three times her age, promised, bartered, and sold to Lord Wilmot all those years ago. How grateful she was for his premature heart attack mere weeks into her arranged marriage. All his assets and wealth went to her father, Sofia’s keeper on Lord Wilmot’s death. Keeper...dare she use the word owner?

Nell was pleased to see dark irises fade into a softer, far more human shade of blue.

“Surely looking all pretty in some fancy dress is the least interesting thing about a ruthless villainess like you?” Sofia finally met Nell’s firm gaze.

A shot was fired from within the dance hall, causing a stampede that threatened to spill out into the small garden space.

“You ready, Wilmot? Clocks ticking, Your Highness.” Nell mocked, bowing with a brief smile at the corner of her lips.

Sofia could only nod her agreement, the closest thing Nell would ever get as a thank you or admittance of fault, certainly not an apology from this irksome woman. Please and sorry were not words that came easily to Lady Wilmot.

Nell resumed her previous stance. Her backside now wedged into the wall; one knee quickly lowered with an open hand ready to boost. A delicate heel quickly found its way into Nell’s palm, and just like that…Sofia was quickly elevated upwards.

The strong Nell was surprised by how light Sofia was. This lady was broad in shoulder and generous in hip and breast, yet it took very little at all to lift her weight to the summit of the brickwork. All without the aid of Billy’s supernatural touch. Propelling Sofia up and over the wall was an action performed by Nell’s natural might alone.

Nell wasn’t far behind Lady Wilmot. The renegade was relieved to see the cunning brunette had not sought a hot-footed escape before Nell could clear the wall herself. She stood waiting anxiously on the other side, smart enough to hide in the eerie mist and shadows.

 Sofia raised an impressed brow as Nell scaled the wall via her own athleticism; the Lady thought it quite gazelle-like the way Nell leaped gracefully from the confines of the walled garden. Sofia Wilmot discreetly allowed herself a moment to take stock of the wiry, feminine muscle tone of Nell's forearms and defined biceps, a firm press of hard thigh strained in her tight pants as she vaulted the wall. The rounded, plump swell of Nell’s worked backside held the lady's attention for the longest before briskly removing her promiscuous gaze, long before Nell noticed.

“You ok?” Dusting herself off, Nell noted a lost look in Lady Wilmot's eyes, mistaking it for shock rather than arousal.

Sofia cleared her throat as a touch of rouge faded from her cheeks.

“I'm quite fine. You spoke of a carriage, Miss Jackson.”

“This way.” Nell set into a quickened jog, side by side with an equally quick-paced Sofia, who impressively ran in heels.

“I don’t suppose you can start calling me Nell. Every time you call me Miss Jackson, I feel like I'm up in front of a bloody magistrate.”

“As you wish, Nell.”

Sofia panted as she kept up with Nell’s sporting stride, each billow of breath made obvious by the cool night air. Autumn, it seemed, had begun to bleed into winter. As the two swiftly rounded the corner into darkness, the carriage lights, with their warm, inviting glow at the end of the alleyway were a most welcome sight.

From the driver's seat of the coach, Rasselas sharply rose to his feet on sight of Nell as she slowed to a light jog toward the carriage and horses. He wasn’t sure who her newfound, masked companion was, but she immediately caught his attention. There was something so familiar about her gait.

“Nell! Thank the stars! Have you had any luck finding Tulley?” Rasselas hastily enquired. He was happy to see his leader in one piece.

Catching her breath, Nell took a moment to respond.

“Didn’t get chance to search the place fully. Queen Anne’s guard burst into the front door, discharging ammo and drawing blades; they weren’t messing about.” I thought they were bandits at first. They were that heavy-handed.”

As Nell's mystery companion approached, the horses suddenly reared up as if something spooked them regarding the stranger. The masked, raven-haired woman reached out a gloved leather hand. Lulling the panicked steeds into submission with a slight touch of hand and gentle hush, whatever she muttered quelled the beast's upset, suppressing their survival instincts and rendering them mute. Nell's accomplice had brought such a natural reaction to danger to heel with ease, subduing their well-placed mistrust and taking control of their responses.

Sofia’s powers had become much greater, and Nell was taking notes.  This woman was dangerous.

Rasselas’s curious gaze met the masked woman’s. Familiar regard of pure blue met dark brown, and a whirlwind of shared history unraveled.

“S... Sofia?” Rasselas could barely believe his eyes as the woman slipped off her mask, revealing her Identity.

“Hello, my dear old friend.”  Nell's ears perked up to an unusually maternal kindness wallowing in Sofia’s usually gruff tone.

“Oh, my god!” Rasselas leaped down from the carriage, dashing towards his childhood friend. He scooped her up in his arms, lifting her into the air in celebration, much to the surprise of The Lady herself.

“You killed Poynton! You took him out, Nell said. I knew there was still good in you!” The soulful, good-hearted Rasselas found tears filling his eyes that quickly spilled over his cheekbones.

The lady Wilmot found her feet back on the cobbles, and her body released from this strong man's hold. She couldn’t help but smile at such immediate forgiveness and generosity. With care, she wiped the tears from his face with a gentle swipe of the thumb.

“It's true I despatched Lord Poynton, but I still have much to make up for. And Thomas is missing.”

“Well, forgive me. But I won't shed a tear for him. You should know that, Sofia.” Rasselas stepped back. It still irked him the loyalty and love that littered Sofia’s tone when she spoke of the miscreant, Thomas Blancheford.

“He is my blood. My little Brother, no matter what darkness befell him.” Sofia declared.

“I hate to break up the reunion, but you need to get in the carriage whilst we wait for Moggers.”

“As you wish.” The lady Wilmot took Rasselas hand as he helped her up into the warmth of Nell's stagecoach.

“You!” Lady Moggerhanger’s voice filled London's cobbled, damp backstreets on her arrival at the carriage. In her revulsion, Eularia slammed the carriage door on Sofia and marched off towards Nell.

“Miss Jackson. We all recognize the appeal of a bad girl. This particular derailed brunette is very well proportioned and admittedly intriguing, but might I suggest the daughter of Satan a stride too far as a… first.” Eularia chose her words well when defining Nell's intent towards Sofia.

“Has she got in your head already? You ought to tread with care.” Eularia warned.

“I need a bloody drink!” Nell sighed as she turned to walk away from Eularia’s quite right observations.

“Nelly Jackson, daughter of Tottenham!! I do believe you're running away,” Eularia called after a stressed Nell as the Highway robber stormed off.

Nell stopped in her tracks. Turning, she briskly walked back towards a now arms-folded, judgmental Eularia.

“Look… I'm not that naive! I'm not that way! And don’t call me Nelly!”

“She has quite literally been in commune with the devil, and you're making heart eyes at her and saving her from rightful arrest.”

“She just wants to find her scumbag brother.”  Nell threw her arms into the air as she swaggered in the direction of a local tavern.

“And I'm not making heart eyes. Even If I was that way, I'm not that bloody affectionate.” Nell's voice trailed off as she got further away.

“She took possession of me! I …felt her. She is a very, very naughty girl, Miss Jackson.” Eularia hollered down the cobbled lane.

Nell let her arms dangle at her sides, her head lowered, and a gasp of air left her lungs as she returned to the carriage area once more.

“Like I told Rass, she stood up to Poynton. Before I got there, she’d tried to take him out herself. He was too strong, but she still fought back. In the end, it was her who ran him through with that blade, not me. She took Poynton out, Moggers. Killed him right in front of me, and she meant it!”

“But to what end, Nell? To take his place? To take his power?  You’re smarter than this; we know so little of her intention, and she is fittingly clever and devious, as all demons are.”

“I know. But…I've got my eye on her. Better keep her close than have her running about free. Plotting God knows what.”

“Right then. That’s that, I suppose. I'm just…concerned.” Eularia placed a soft hand on Nell’s shoulder.

“I know. You’re alright, Mogs. For a snooty spoiled Toff.” Nell smiled broadly.

“How about we get that drink? Golly gosh, I could eat a horse.”  Eularia’s stomach grumbled.

“Jolly good, but the thing is, we can't leave her on her own. And she’s got to eat.”

“Oh, must we take her with us?”  Moggerhanger groaned.

“I'm afraid so,” Nell walked Moggerhanger back toward Sofia and the parked carriage.

“How do you mean you have never been in a pub before!” Nell's voice lifted an octave in much surprise.

The lady Wilmot simply raised a superior gaze upon her ruffian accomplice.

 “It's not something one does., I don’t know why you are all so surprised.”

“Because you might be top of the toffs, but you're still bloody English! How come you’ve never been in a pub? It's not…

“Patriotic!” Moggerhanger butt in. “Another reason our glorious monarch ought to chop off your head!”

Sofia’s eyes grew wide.

“Are you suggesting that, as an English woman, me never drinking in a public alehouse is an act of treason?”

“Yes!” Three voices boomed in perfect unison. 

“Your filth brother went to the pub… he was always in the Toll Brook, making advances towards my sister.”

“Then perhaps ladies do not frequent public houses and Taverns, but Lords do.”

“Moggerhanger does, and she's a lady.”

A sly smirk pulled on the corner of Sofia’s mouth.

“I think perhaps I should refrain from further comment?”

“How dare you? What are you implying?” Moggerhanger pushed Nell to one side so she might get at Sofia.

“Nothing. I am sure the Moggerhanger Estate of Bedfordshire is most… acceptable.”

“Acceptable? You Snooty little whore. We might not have the land titles and property of the Blancheford’s and Wilmot’s. But my father worked hard for the Moggerhanger estate.

The lady Wilmot stood abruptly.

“I rather thought your father seduced and made off with the fiancé and sole heir to the Moggerhanger estate. While her betrothed was off fighting for this country, your father was rodding a war veteran’s bride to be no less.” Lady Wilmot poked hard at Moggerhanger's family pride.

“You …. slithering succubus! I shall have you take that back!”

“I speak the truth!” Sofia’s temper neared volcanic as the two women approached physical fighting. Nell stepped between the two fired-up aristocrats.

“Alright, alright, both of ya keep your knickers on! Is this what a Toff-Off looks like?” Nell gently pushed the two women apart.

“My God. You lot have never worked for anything, have you? Everything is handed to you. Everything is paid for. Take whatever you can. Whether by murder, blackmail, or shagging some other bloke's wife.”  Moggerhanger blushed.

As far as I'm concerned, you all want stringing up in the town square.

“We are wasting time with the frivolity of an alehouse!” Sofia stamped her foot.

I want to find Thomas!”

“I want to find Charles!”

“I want a fuckin drink!”  Nell raised her voice above both women.

Once more, Sofia cast a scornful glare towards Nell as the renegade dared to raise her voice before her again. The rapscallion narrowed her eyes upon the hot-tempered Nell and her audacity.

“What might you suggest?” Moggerhanger sighed, not wishing to delay her overdue supper any longer. She could already smell the meat pies and slow-cooked pot roasts emanating from the pub. It was most enticing.  

Nell inspected the outfits of both ladies.

“You both stand out like sore thumbs! You can't walk into this place dressed like that. Roxy's dresses are in the back of the Carriage.” Nell pointed towards the trunk of the wooden vehicle.

“What? You would have us wear … cotton?” Eularia challenged.

The Lady Moggerhanger let out a brief sob as Sofia paled considerably.

Nell closed in; her patience now gone.

“Either get changed in the fuckin carriage or stay in the thing all night…. together!” Nell snapped.

“Very well. Give us some time.” Moggerhanger ushered Sofia towards the carriage's ornate-looking door. Her long fingers wrapped around the handle as she hurried Sofia up the steps.

Nell left the ladies to their disrobing as a speedy Rasselas struggled to keep up with the highway robber's volcanic steps toward the local ale house.

Chapter Text

Within the carriage. Two perfectly fine ladies stripped down to their undergarments.

Slipping into Roxy's dress. Sofia winced as the rough, bobbled threads dragged over her soft skin.

“How awful. They must wear this material each day, every day.”

“Indeed. Not one ounce of this fibre was spat from the anus of a tropical Arachnid.”

Sofia briefly snorted a laugh.

The Lady Moggerhanger snuck glances at Sofia as she stripped down. Roxy's lavender-coloured dress fit the Witch well. They were of a similar size and build. Moggerhanger discreetly admired Sofia's full swell and pertness of breasts, the flat plain of her firm stomach, and the shapely length of each leg. Roxy's dress fit Moggerhanger in width but less in length due to the aristocrats' extraordinary height. She would make it work for a pint and a roast dinner though.

Eularia was aging rapidly—that much she knew. She thought her once-taught skin had loosened around her neck, akin to a Turkey’s. Her famed cheekbones were no longer up to the task of preventing her face from sagging downwards. Dark circles were now permanent tattoos under her eyes as lines and wrinkles stretched outwards across her skin.

Disrobing beside the far younger Sofia in such proximity was far more torment than she might have imagined.

“I envy you. Enjoy youth while it lasts.” She whispered across the carriage.

“My Charles has no doubt found himself distracted by a younger model. Just as attractive as yourself, I'd imagine.

“Then trade him in. Why lower yourself to such antics when you're, if you don't mind me saying so, such a strong-willed Snapdragon of a woman?” Sofia offered the most backhanded compliments.

“For love, I suppose. We endure for love.” Eularia shrugged.

Sofia burst out into rapturous laughter.

Moggerhanger frowned immediately. Her expression demanded an explanation from a still-smiling Sofia.

“Love. What nonsense. You've read far too much poetry and epic tales of romance. Love is a trick that nature plays on us to make us reproduce. I shall play no part in it.”

Sofia made final adjustments to Roxy's dress before stroking her hair. It was still pulled up and pinned at the front like a fine lady for a grand ball, not a back-alley Tavern.

For once, Moggerhanger was at a loss for words. Briefly, she felt sorry for Sofia. She was so young yet so dark and damaged, so bitter and lacking in light.

Sofia meticulously folded her delicate silk gown with military precision before a slack-jawed Eularia.

“Now lust, that I will give credence to. Seduction, absolutely!  Both are the greater, far more powerful arsenals of romance. Much more so than Love has ever been. Love leads strong women like us to ruin.”

“So, that is how you got Miss Jackson to help you, your Feminine Wiles and blatant sexuality. You're playing on her confusion and denials. Her closeted self-doubt.

Sofia paused…turning to face Eularia in the confined space.

“Blatant sexuality? Do you disapprove of sex and seduction between women?”

“Certainly not! On the contrary, I applaud it. I do not believe there is a single heterosexual person within my print room. Aside from myself and the dog, of course.”

Sofia quirked a brow, not wanting to open the can of worms and how on earth one might ascertain the sexuality of a canine. Moggerhanger was most peculiar beyond eccentric.

“No. Your gender does not bother me. However, your intentions towards Miss Jackson do. I've grown somewhat fond of her over these few months. She is illiterate, foulmouthed, and has the fashion sense of a court jester, but she is loyal, brave, and kind.”

Sofia raised her chin proudly, her eyes not leaving Moggerhanger’s as she spoke of her admiration for the heroic Nell Jackson.

“I simply despise the thought of such a good heart in the teeth of some predatory harlot.”

Sofia admired Eularia's guts; a smirk pulled at the corner of the sorceress’s lips.

“I do wish you were direct and spoke your mind.” Sofia sarcastically replied.

The two stood in silence. Sofia’s darkness always managed to raise its head. Had she given more away to Moggerhanger than she wished? Perhaps her automated, cold responses had given the wrong impression. Since that fateful night dispatching Poynton, the infamous Nelly Jackson had been very much on the dark sorceress's mind. No, Sofia wished her flirtations were premeditated; the truth was, she could not stop herself from seeking the attention of the highwaywoman.  So early in her company, Sofia felt discomfort when the renegade left her side.

This awkward silence, Sofia needed it to end. Moggerhanger read the younger woman's mind.

“Let's get these pins out of your hair.  Eularia gestured for Sofia to sit down.”

These common clothes, and might I say, divine hair doo of yours…they simply do not go together. I will assist you. Warily, Sofia did as instructed, and Moggerhanger began to pull out the pins.

Long hair was all at once set free at the front. Each pin removed released a torrent of dark trestles that reached down to the swell of firm breasts. Reams of swirling curls fell artfully, smothering Sofia's perpetual broodiness. Eularia caught a faint scent of rose petals as she fluffed the girl's thick mane.

 In a bizarre twist of maternal instinct. Eularia gently swept several errant hairs from Sofia’s chiseled features, organizing her locks and making those angled, handsome characteristics seem softer and feminine. A much more innocent-looking young woman came to the surface in the coach light.

The dark curtain of hair now framing Sofia's face made that ice-blue gaze far more striking. Full, puffy lips further complimented her strong jaw and high cheekbones. Eularia silently admired the prominent ridge of The Lady Wilmot's top lip, which simply begged to be suckled on.

“Well, Goodbye Lady Wilmot and Hello - Miss Sofia Blancheford.” Eularia meowed.

“I do not recall the last time I heard that name.” Sofia faintly whispered.

Moggerhanger gently lifted Sofia's chin with her fingertips so she could inspect her good looks further.

“My goodness. You are a stunning woman, aren’t you? Under all that wrath and shadow. Such a pretty girl with such a dark heart. Whatever could have happened to you to make you this way?”

Sofia maintained a stoic gaze. The lady Moggerhanger was a wise woman. She noted something stirring behind Sofia's eyes as she offered her kind words. Was this young woman never shown thoughtfulness, sympathy…, or real friendship?  Perhaps a mother's love taken far too soon was too fatal a blow. The lady Moggerhanger knew such a loss. It made for the most frosty, unfeeling of little girls.

Sofia was now vulnerable, exposed, and defensive under Eularia’s scrutiny.

“I do not require your sympathy nor your misguided observations.”

“I am not offering you sympathy. But I will offer you a warning if you’re playing games and hurt the heart of Nell Jackson. I shall hunt you down and kill you in your sleep!”

Sofia believed Moggerhanger's threat to be legitimate; she cared for Nell Jackson.

“Then let me reassure you. As soon as I locate Thomas, I am gone. The moment I am no longer on the run and the Blancheford fortune is back in my control, neither you nor the legendary Nell Jackson will have to see me again.”

Eularia nodded her satisfaction at the thought of Sofia as far away from Nell as possible.

 “I will take back what belongs to Thomas and me.  Whether I achieve that through the aid of Miss Jackson or the devil himself, I truly don’t care. I was rather hoping to avoid the latter. Although, it seems he is rather fond of me.” Sofia winked, teasing Eularia gleefully.

The Copper Kettle – London, England.

Steadying her nerve, Sofia took a breath as she stepped through the doorway into the flickering candlelight of the pub. A rowdy orchestra of male voices debating, laughing, and howling rapturously filled the cramped space of this old Tavern. The Lady caught the scent of oats, grains, and barley. A sootiness coated the walls and ceiling as an open fire pit raged dangerously in the corner of the low-ceiling dwelling. Eularia placed a gentle hand on Sofia’s back, ushering the public house virgin through the cluttered bodies…. straight into the path of Nell Jackson.

Nell took note of Eularia first, and then her expression significantly altered when she took in Sofia. Never a slouch and ordinarily so dexterous, Nell fumbled with her jar of ale as the drink almost slipped from her fingers. Was this even the same woman before her? An ache knotted itself deep into the left of Nell’s chest; a flood of something she could not place descended downwards and spread out satisfyingly in her lower region as blue eyes befell hazel.

Nell opened her mouth to speak but found herself mute. Eularia rolled her eyes as Nell's brain short-circuited on her first glance at the Wonderous Wiccan Woman.

Rasselas threw an arm over a shell-shocked Nell's shoulder, unaware that his officer in charge was incapacitated and without authority before the bewitching Sofia Blancheford.

“Sofia! Ha-ha! You look amazing. Wow, you look like an ordinary girl!” Rasselas eagerly complimented his friend.

“Really? How awful,” Sofia groaned.

Rasselas speedily led Sofia away, taking her by the hand and dragging her to an inviting nook in the pub's corner from prying eyes.

Nell's attention remained on Sofia’s form like a bloodhound seeking out the kill of the hunt. Across the room, Sofia smiled broadly when in conversation with Rasselas. The extent of her charm had Nell nailed to the old floorboards of this quirky little place. The usually moody Sofia should think to smile more often, thought Nell. The Wilmot Woman, she was very attractive.

Sofia’s eyes darted about the cluster of bodies within the alehouse before landing on her target…Nell Jackson. The two held each other's gaze. Eularia watched as the rapid rise and fall of both girls’ chests worked in perfect unison. An erratic heartbeat and bubbling blood pressure fuelled a perfect synergy that dragged the good Nell Jackson towards the cliff edge that was the Villainous Sofia Wilmot. As the inappropriate in-length stare went on, a pent-up desire and attraction were evident to any keen observer.

Eularia looked back and forth between the two.

“I rather think you are in a great deal of trouble, Miss Jackson.” Eularia couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” Nell mumbled.

As the evening progressed, Sofia grew less uncomfortable with her surroundings; dare she think it, but she was enjoying herself. This grotty, rat-riddled hole had a certain charm and ambiance she had never experienced. She felt so relaxed in this unbuttoned world. She no longer startled when one patron would tumble over another. Fists swinging and ale spilling out across creaky floorboards as men fought wildly. Neither brute seemed able to recall what had led them to be upset to begin with, such was the level of alcohol flooding through their bloodstreams.

Talking of alcohol in the blood, Sofia smiled to herself as Moggerhanger clung to Nell across the other side of the bar. Her movements were uncoordinated as more of her drink met the saw-dust-covered floor than her lips. Nell had kept her distance from the discombobulating Sofia for most of the evening.

“So…where do you think Thomas might be?” Rasselas fought to get Sofia's attention as her eyes remained on Nell.

“Hello?” Rasselas waved a hand before a lost-looking Sofia.

“Oh, my apologies. What did you ask? How awfully rude of me to have you repeat yourself.

Rasselas looked back over towards Sofia’s medusa.

“Thomas, where do you suspect him to be?”

Sofia’s expression turned darker.

“I fear associates of Poynton may have taken him. I worry they’re planning on using him as some form of …”

“Blackmail?” Rasselas surmised.

“Perhaps. They’re somewhat desperate for me to fill the void Poynton has left. Quite flattering, really; one mustn’t grumble at being so in demand.”

“And you’ve told them where to go! Told them to get lost!” Rasselas prayed Sofia would say yes.

“I have spoken of terms, but they found my requests most disagreeable. Since that last meeting, it seems whenever I channel this Wiccan gift, I attract dark shades and a creature. It might be that I am accidentally conjuring it, or they are…”

“Tracking you when you use your powers.” Again, Rasselas finished Sofia's sentence.

“It does at times seem so. Like a beacon, I use these gifts, and they find me, or this dreadful creature does.”

Sofia looked about the bar area, suddenly aware of several curious gazes cast in her direction. Had she been recognized?

“Have you told Nell about all this?”

“I would if she had the courage to sit with me.” Sofia scoffed.

Rasselas looked over at Nell. She had struggled to keep her eyes off Sofia all evening but did not engage with her. She left Sofia in his sole care all evening.

“Yeah, it's not like Nell to be so withdrawn. I wonder what’s got into her?”

“I unnerve her more easily than she would like to confess.” Sofia took a sip of her Rum as she felt more attention from the gathered crowds aimed in her direction.

Rasselas noted her concern.

“Sofia don’t worry about it. I don’t think they realize who you are.”

“But they are staring so intently.”

Rasselas coughed up a mighty laugh.

“What on earth? Are you mocking me, dear friend?”

“No, it's just. They're blokes in a pub, and you're the most beautiful woman here. They're just waiting for me to leave you alone. Soon as I’m gone, they’ll be over like a shot, You will have a big line of them queuing up for your hand.”

“May I implore you not to leave my side then.” Sofia quipped.

“Of course, I won't leave you. I…I know they're not… your type. You know, you like…”

Sofia smiled broadly as Rasselas stumbled over his words.

“You're a…

“A witch?” Sofia played dumb.

No…

“A Brunette? Sofia's smile broadened as she teased.

“No!” Rasselas blushed as Sofia laughed loudly…gaining Nell’s attention.

“A Deviant! That's what my father called me, do you remember?”

“I remember.” Rasselas grimaced at the memory of Sofia being caught red-handed with her lady-in-waiting.

“I give up. I don’t know what to call it.” Rasselas hid his face in his hands.

Sofia reassuringly squeezed her old friend's hand as their laughter subsided.

“Maybe one day, people like me won't have to call it anything. We shall have our communities and pubs where I shan’t mind being the object of the patron's desires.” Sofia winked.

“Amen.” Rasselas raised his glass to Sofia.

As the pub traffic became heavier, Sofia felt the weight of her evening begin to take its toll.

“Rasselas, I wonder if you'd be so good as to escort me to our room.”

“Of course, we're right above the pub. I think Nell bagged us all the family suite. Are you all right sharing?

“I've spent more nights than I ever dreamed sleeping under the stars with Thomas on the run. I'm sure I can share a cot with a dear friend.”

Discreetly, the two childhood friends slipped out from the small table in the nook and headed for the stairs. Light-footed and avoiding Sofia’s would-be suitors, they reached the refuge at the foot of the stairs to the lodgings above.

“You alright from here? I need to pee.” Rasselas covered his crotch with his hands. Bouncing on the spot like a toddler,

Sofia sniggered – “of course. Just give me the key.”

For a moment, Rasselas hesitated before he fished the length of iron from his jacket pocket.

“Wait, you're not gonna…run, are you?” His tone was so downhearted.

“Of course not. Where would I go? And now I have you back at my side. As you have always been.” Sofia cupped Rasselas’s face in her hand. Soothing his concern immediately.

“You’re just after the best side of the bed first,”

Sofia laughed.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Sofia sank back into the wooden panel. Her head landed with a gentle thud against the oak surface behind. Blowing a sad sigh, Sofia cast her eyes up to the ceiling and focused on the simple treacherous journey of a spider above.

“Nell Jackson…. How dare you make me feel this way.” She uttered in the privacy and silence.

Sofia allowed herself a brief smile and disbelieving shake of the head. It had wounded her, Nell. With her back turned to her for most of the evening, she stole constant glances, leaving the lady feeling unrequited and alone. The feared villainess hated that it bothered her so.

Gathering herself together. The lady Wilmot raised her chin, steadied her breath, and thought about getting ready for bed. With great relief, she peeled Roxy’s flimsy cotton dress from her form, tossing it on a nearby chair as she freed herself from her undergarments.  “What a day!”

In the bar below

“Where has she gone!” Nell frantically searched the bar area. Grabbing Rasselas by the lapels as he returned from the water closet.

“What part of don’t let her out of your sight was unclear!” Nell barked.

“Whoa! She went to bed, Nell. That’s all.”

“You fell for that, did ya!” Nell shook her head in disbelief.

“Whatever is going on.” Moggerhanger drunkenly stumbled into the heated conversation.

“He’s been tricked! She is probably halfway to the dark forest by now! Get out of my way,” Nell released Rasselas as she hot footed it toward the stairs in pursuit of Sofia.

“She's gone to bed! If you'd give her the time of day, there are things you need to know, Nell. Somethings after her!”  Rasselas screamed once more at the retreating Nell.

Dashing up the staircase, Nell rushed the door to the bedchamber, shoulder first and all but taking the thick slab of wood off its hinges….Nell was met with a gift she had neither expected nor prepared her nerve.

“Shit! I'm sorry.” Turning quickly, the usually cock sure girl pulled her tricorn hat from her head and stood to attention respectfully... all with her back turned to an unapologetically nude Lady Wilmot.

Glancing down at her crotch, the heated renegade cursed the instant betrayal of her loins. As Sofia walked, Nell had caught a bounce of full breast and a thicket of dark hair between shapely thighs. An inexcusable swelling and tightness exploded within the highwaywoman's britches … forcing her to stand perfectly still for fear of causing any unwanted friction that might further her sudden arousal at the sight of this woman laid bare. Sofia was naked, beautiful, and quite ready for inspection.

“I …I should have knocked. My old Mum always taught me to do that.” Nell sighed, thinking of her late mother's disappointment at her lack of manners.

“It’s fine. We’re all girls together, are we not. You thought I’d run, didn’t you.” Sofia gruffly responded.

That deep, well-spoken resonance only further compounded Nell's arousal. Throwing a hangman's noose around her resistance and choking the denial out of her once more.

“I’m tight, Sofia… I mean! It will be tight to find Thomas before folks around here recognize you. Your bloody picture is everywhere now, all over town, right next to that rat brother of yours.

A knowing smirk lingered at the corner of Sofia’s mouth; such was Nell’s telltale slip of the tongue. Tight, how fortunate a fumble, how perfectly accurate a description of Nell's current state of redress.

The lady herself was not faring much better. She took in the broadness of Nell’s shoulders from behind then the perfect V-shape of her back down to her waist. Nell was far more lythe and slender of hip than Sofia, but her firm-looking, generous-sized rump gave away an altogether female figure. Yet Sofia’s gaze settled on one part of Nell alone: her hands. Now curling into fists, she kept her back to the Lady and her eyes from her willing form.

“You right now? Are you all covered up? Nell stammered, still unwilling to turn around.

“Why can you not face me?” Sofia whispered into the dying candlelight as the thickest column of wax in the room quickly drowned its wick. Soon, they would be plunged into moonlight alone.

“Because it’s not polite. It's ill-mannered. You're supposed to be the Toff; you're all about decorum and decency.” Nell's reply was softer in tenor than expected.

“And are your thoughts not decent, Miss Jackson?”

Sofia glanced at Nell’s fists again as they clenched further, painfully balled up and soldered to her sides.

Sofia cleared her throat, an unexpected nervousness down tuning the chord of her voice.

“I wish I could say your absence this evening was not missed, but your back turned on me was just as disheartening then as it is now.”

“I'm sorry.” Nell still refused to turn around.

“Tell me this. Is it because of what Thomas and I did? Do I disgust you still?”

Nell paused. This long, drawn-out delay in response forced Sofia to dampen down a scream from within. “Answer Woman, God damn you.” The witch whispered within the awkward silence.

“I already said I don’t trust ya. But it's not that.” Nell’s voice trailed off as she finally replied.

“Then what? What do you fear most? Is it that I might turn you into something unspeakable, or that you rather like the idea of letting me?”

Nell spat out a nervous laugh.

“Full of yourself…ain’t ya.”

“I'd much rather be full of you.” Sofia instantly replied. She was quick, too quick. A wit as sharp as a knife-edge.

Nell dry swallowed.

  “Bloody hell, you’ve got a way with words.”

“Turn around.” Sofia once more demanded

“I can't do that.”

Nell let out a ragged breath. She closed her eyes tightly as she heard the soft padding of Sofia’s bare feet approaching her.

“Why ever not? There is nothing wrong with what we are.” Sofia proudly stated.

Nell felt a warmth at her back, then the supple press of Sofia’s breast on her person. She sucked in a gasp of air as the softness of her lady's breath tickled the fine hairs of her neck; Sofia was respectful enough not to touch.

However, Sofia’s lips sneaked right by Nell's ear; on cue, the candlelight finally died, and they were plunged into the moonlight.

“Turn around and touch me,”

“Please, don’t. Sofia.” Nell whispered back.

From behind, Sofia’s arms looped around Nell’s hips until her fingertips reached a brass belt buckle. Gingerly, the usually forward Sofia hesitated as an unexpected bolt of apprehension had her stand down.

“Should I touch you, would you prefer that?” Sofia bravely asked. Doubting herself for a moment, why did this feel different from her previous dalliances?

Still, the Lady toyed with the metal of Nell’s belt.

Nell's shaking hand landed on Sofia’s, halting her removal of the pesky clasp.

“I thought you didn’t ask a woman to dance a third time,” Nell said in a barely audible tone.

“For you…I would make an exception.” Sofia’s words dripped into Nell’s ear. Those soft lips hovered by a sensitive lobe, that mouth travelled a daring path from Nell’s ear, breezing over a slender neck to the dip of her clavicle. The sorceress was exhilarated to feel Nell sink into the contact rather than pull away.

Sofia's lips were almost upon Nell's exposed throat as the highwaywoman closed her eyes. Tipping her head helpfully to give the dark Sofia better access.

“Nell Jackson,” Sofia whispered teasingly into the highwaywoman's ear.

At that, the door once more burst open.  Drunk…Moggerhanger was halfway through a sentence on entry before coming to a screeching halt at the sight before her. She all but dropped dead at the scene at hand.

Sofia took a big step away from Nell. Like a vampire suddenly exposed to sunlight.

“Your timing is unforgivably poor!” Sofia's eyes darkened instantly on Eularia.

“Well! Lady Wilmot! You are indeed a fine specimen. I recall when my breasts turned upwards as yours do now, proudly facing more of the sky than the flooring; such is the gift of youth. My tits are far closer to my naval now than my armpits. You though, are just spectacular.

“Oh my god, please shut your trap, Moggers!” Nell closed her eyes, turning her face to the rafters as her skin glowed deep red with embarrassment for herself and the Lady Moggerhanger.

“Do you require a chair, Miss Jackson? I'm rather surprised you're still on your feet. Would a stiff drink help, perhaps? How gallant of you to keep your eyes away from her.”

“Honestly, the two of you together. So handsome, so …. dripping with tension and promise. I've written something utterly salacious and degenerate about the two of you.”

“What!” Nell called out just before Sofia chimed in. The young brunette was now pulling a night dress over her nude form, much to Nell's relief.

“Of course. There isn’t a chance I'm missing out on this untouched market—lesbian erotism. I shall sell a library of filth-ridden smut pertaining to the two of you! I'll change your names, of course. All fictitious but, my god, enticing and scandalous.

“The rigid, uptight daughter of riches and aristocracy and chimney sweeps daughter.”

“Err, I think you’ll find my dad owned a pub.” Nell quickly corrected.

Moggerhanger went on, great mouthfuls of wine swishing about her glass as she stumbled drunkenly about the bedroom space,

“It will be a page-turner! One desperate for the firm grip of a rough and ready commoner, the other frantic to rip into the silk underwear of real posh totty! The soft skin of a lady ravaged by the callous hands of a butcher's daughter.” Moggerhanger sighed when recanting her creativity and vision.

“Pub! I grew up in a pub! I'm a barkeep's daughter you mad old cow!” Nell raised her voice.

“It’s a work of fiction! Like your sexual desire for the females of the species. It's all a terrible lie, isn’t it? You like a stiff cock, do you not?” Eularia let out a loud hiccup as she walked unsteadily towards Sofia. She was so utterly inebriated she could barely walk; Sofia merely quirked a brow as Moggerhanger almost tippled over.

“Miss, Wilford, Blanhemot? No, that’s not it either…whatever your name is, I rather hoped you might proofread the draft chapters of my steamy epic, you being seemingly so much more well-practiced in lesbianism than Miss Jackson.”

Nell groaned audibly as Eularia made such a show of herself before Sofia.

“I did wonder, my dear, why your father went through so many maids and housekeepers. Did you fuck them all, I wonder?” Eularia guffawed.

“Star-crossed lovers. From different sides of the dusty path but wanting the same desperate, sticky, wet liaisons under the cover of dark. The lady of the house with a bit of rough common rutting on top of her!” Eularia cackled.

“On top? I rather think not.  Sofia suddenly stated, narrowing her eyes on Nell as a devilish smile pulled at the corner of her lips, forcing a gulp from Nell Jackson's throat.

“Yes! Yes, of course. Why did I not see it? You're a Dom, as the French say.  The leather glove as opposed to silk. Oh. I shall have to rewrite the entirety of chapter four: the dark scowling brow and piercing blue eyes. I bet you have them trussed up like turkeys to the slaughter. Although I should warn you, Miss Jackson is rather competent at freeing herself from knots.”

“I've never had need of restraints; I don’t struggle to garner obedience from a woman in my bed; they're usually rather good girls for their mistress.” Sofia was enjoying teasing Eularia.

“Miss Blancheford, really! You are a machine!” Eularia gasped merrily.

“Right! That’s it!” Nell stormed out, accidentally bumping into Eularia and slamming the door as she fled; the usual light-footed, skilled renegade missed several stairs as she sprinted back to the safety of the bar.

“You alright, governor? Rasselas quickly darted from Nell’s lightning-paced path as they almost clashed on the stairwell.

“Nell! What’s got into ya!” He called after the flummoxed highwaywoman.

Sofia and Eularia's eyes remained on the door after Nell swiftly departed.

“Was it something I said? Eularia belched.

“Surely not,” a sarcastic Sofia replied. She couldn’t help but smile knowingly; such was the heat pouring from Nell's body as she briefly passed by.

“They’re so sensitive, these lower-class sorts,” Eularia sighed.

“That was quite the overreaction from Miss Jackson,” Eularia added.

 “On the contrary, it's just as I had hoped.” Sofia bit her bottom lip.

Eularia eyebrows knitted together in drunken confusion.

“On the streets, Miss Jackson is very much the captain. In my sheets, I would have her know her place. Feel free to write that down, author.” Sofia winked, much to Eularia's gasp.

“Somebody find me a quill and pot of ink this instant!” The publisher bellowed.

Chapter Text

Nell awoke to transitory brightness, the memory of the night before returning in brief bursts of recollection. The copper Kettle, so much shouting, so much laughter. The renegades' head pounding was a sure sign of the morning after.

A well-placed arm unceremoniously slumped across a creased face, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow; Nell sought to shield her sensitive eyes from the early morning sun. The dawn’s glow was intense on this day. Once tired, sleepy eyes had adjusted to the change of light, Nell admired the glorious shades of the sky above.

As the sun awakened, lifting high above the rooftops and chimney pots of old London Town, the atmosphere glowed in a warm shade of orange that slowly burnt into striking yellow hues. Nell’s mind wandered…had she really spent the night sleeping under the stars? Away from a comfy cot, away from her friends, away from temptation.

Sofia…

From the discomfort of a shopkeeper's doorway, Nell lay perfectly still. She held a breath deep within as if keeping prisoner an undeniable truth. Something unspoken had welcomed the sensual Sofia’s advances. A warmth had crept up on her nether regions. A satisfying wetness started to pool whenever the Witch breathed softly over her skin. That voice. That dark ache of a voice all but growled enticingly into Nell's ear. Nell wished to feign forgetfulness, but she still felt the imprint of the regal Sofia’s feminine figure pressing up against her working-class back. What was this she was feeling? This magnetism was quickly followed by the need to submit whenever Sofia stood far too close.  It wasn’t right, was it? This undeniable attraction to a woman that had brought her so much upset and grief. The Wilmot Woman was pure magic.

Magic? That was it! Nell rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. A spell, how could she be so foolish? Sofia was clearly casting some wiccan wonderment over her. Yes, the dark sorceress was tampering with her thoughts, influencing her locked-down libido. Sofia’s flirtations were edging Nell ever closer to an act of sin, forcing a brisk attrition of her usual self-assuredness and willpower.

Why had Nell not seen it sooner? Sofia was powerful, and the renegade's mistrust ran so deep that she thought it quite probable that Sofia’s growing irresistible pull was not without the aid of the dark arts.

Deluded and dissuaded from truth. Nell quickly got to her feet, convinced of the notion that she was not of sound body and mind on the night just passed. She would not let Sofia cast a spell on her again, that was for sure.

The lodgings of the Copper Kettle London.

The quite monstrous awakening of Lady Moggerhanger.

 Like a corpse arising from the grave, a prolonged groan akin to the call of the undead sang from the half-departed lady herself. A sluggish sloth-like grapple for something with which to find purchase ensued as long fingers and claw-like nails felt their way through the half-light. Success! Clambering up the bedpost, the still partially intoxicated Moggers belched loudly. She now found herself upright and standing at the foot of the oversized mattress. How had she come to sleep upon the floor? Make-up ran down her face in rivers of black. Smudged purple lipstick decorated her cheek and front teeth. Her hair stood on ends, defying physics like an erupting blonde volcano.

Rasselas awoke with a start.

“Ahhhhh!” He screamed at the sight of the zombified Eularia. She clung helplessly to the bedpost as if stood upon the bow of a ship bobbing up and down on a rough sea.

Rasselas’s fright woke Sofia with an equally terrified start. Her eyes morphed black on instinct, and a defensive ball of flame conjured in her hands. Rasselas and the Sorceress patted the embers quickly as they wafted across the bed linen.

“What on earth!” Sofia squealed at Eularia as the beast opened and closed its mouth with a dry snap. Moggerhanger’s lips were parched, and her throat felt as grainy as the sands of Egypt.

Sofia’s hair billowed over sleek shoulders in a perfect blanket of shimmering, artful curls. Her pale, youthful skin was a vast plain of perfection; a flash of greyish blue befell Eularia as the Wiccan Woman’s eyes briefly caught the sunlight.

“I despise you! How are you this shamelessly beautiful first thing!” Eularia hissed as her nails dug deeper into the bed frame.

“Might I suggest my appearance is due to not consuming an abbey’s worth of mead mixed with wine, whisky, and rum…all in one evening!”

“Poppycock! It's good breeding. Nothing to do with sobriety.” The lady hiccupped.

“How can you still be…. drunk?” Rasselas jaw dropped more than was polite.

Eularia briefly stumbled as she sought to free herself from her only means of support. It was far too soon! Once more, she wrapped her arms around the solid oak furniture. Hazy eyes glanced between the shirtless, hard-muscled Rasselas and the increasingly irritable Sofia, who was now sitting up by his side.

“My god, how is it possible you exude even more lesbianism when lay next to a half-naked, might I say quite handsome young man? Such a chiseled torso cut from dark marble.” Eularia wiggled her brow.

“Don’t leave me!” Rasselas side mouthed a whisper to Sofia as he felt the witch attempt to depart the bed linens. The young lad covered his bare chest protectively with a corner of bedding as Eularia peppered a flurry of kisses in his direction.

“O’ he doth teach the torches to burn bright. It seems he hangs upon the cheek of night. Like a fine gem in an Ethiops ear.”

The well-read Sofia corrected Eularia in a drawn-out sigh as she slipped from the sheets.”

“Like a rich jewel in an Ethiops ear!” Sofia shook her head at the amateur reading.

“Pish posh! Are you not rather impressed that I can still quote Shakespeare when this… well rested.”

“This well inebriated you mean!” Sofia again corrected as she drew open the curtain, allowing further sunlight to fill the dusty room.

Rasselas suddenly cast his eyes about the corners and floor space; Eularia simply hissed and shielded her eyes from the morning brightness. Oh, how her head pounded so.

“Where the bloody hell is Nell?” Rasselas realised the renegade was not present.

Peering out through the gritty windowpane, Sofia raised a brow as, on cue, the highwaywoman sheepishly rounded the corner of the muddy lane below. Her Tricorn hat was under her arm, and a soothing hand was massaging the small of her back.

 Looking down from the window, Sofia’s pensive gaze remained on the wild-haired redhead via a cracked square of glass. Feeling she was being watched, Nell glanced up at the face above. Her eyes met Sofia’s as the Lady remained silent and stood perfectly still, her delicate fingers clutching a handful of velvet curtains. Neither woman broke eye contact. Sofia found herself the Juliet on her balcony above, faced with her reluctant Romeo upon the cobbled, puddle-ridden path below.

“Oh!” Eularia shouted, forcing a startled jump from the Witch and her childhood friend, still quivering in his cot.

“I am recalling something!” Eularia tightly closed her eyes as if forcing memories knife to slice over her skin.

Uncharacteristically, Sofia briefly blushed as she cleared her throat. She hoped the Lady would not recall her being entirely naked and vulnerable before her only mere hours ago.

“What is it?” Rasselas watched in amazement as Eularia muttered to herself as she racked her brains.

“Ignore her. She’s not of sound min….”

“You!” Eularia suddenly recalled, pointing a sharp talon straight at Sofia.

“You bare-breasted, exquisite little tart!”

“What have I missed?” Rasselas looked back and forth between the two Ladies.

Pulling on her hat, Nell first avoided Sofia's eyes as the brunette, and Rasselas helped the stumbling Eularia down the stairs.

“Fuckin hell!” Nell exclaimed on sight of the drunken footwork.

In the Copper Kettle, Nell had watched Eularia dancing; she was drunk by the ninth strike of the belltower and quite paralytic by the next. Smiling and falling in a slow descending funk, Nell was pleased to see the aristocrat let her hair down, but Nell had seen far too many a wild, eager patron come to regret their excess from the night before.

“ALRIGHT MOGGERS!” On purpose, Nell raised her voice as Eularia passed by. The sound reverberated around the slowly sobering Lady Moggerhanger’s brain.

“Urchin!” That was all the lady managed as Rasselas took over from Sofia, guiding the wobbly woman toward the safety of the carriage.

Sofia delayed following her strong friend with the remains of the tall Lady Moggerhanger strewn over his shoulders. She stopped in her tracks as she drew level with Nell.

Nell felt Sofia’s eyes quickly appraise her from top to bottom, an air of disappointment in her gaze. Again, Nell removed her tricorn respectfully to a Lady. She fiddled and faffed with the leather brim as she still found it challenging to hold Sofia’s eyes.

“I need you to stop whatever you’re doing to me,” Nell whispered.

“Excuse me?” Sofia arched a high brow.

“Last night…that’s not me. You’re using your powers on me.”

Overhearing, Eularia's eyes widened…

“Nelly Jackson, no! What a thing to say. You idiot!” She uttered to herself, Instructing Rasselas to pause her transportation to the carriage. She would hear this conversation for herself.

Sofia burst out into a bountiful roar of laughter. So much so that Rasselas turned around, such was the rarity of joyous laughter from his dark childhood friend. Nell frowned immediately as the Lady held her side. Nell thought Sofia had contained her amusement for a moment, only to find the pesky woman erupting into hearty laughter once more at her expense.

“I mean it!” Nell folded her arms across her chest defensively.

Catching her breath and wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. Sofia breathed in deeply before responding.

“Miss Jackson. There is nothing supernatural about the effect a naked woman has on you. Might I suggest it’s more a case you’d quite like the taste of her, how shall I put it … her Venus honeypot.”  Sofia winked before walking away.

“Oi! We’re not done here.” Nell called after a departing Sofia. The Witch turned sharply on her heels.

“Oh, we very much are!  Do you think it proper to allege such a thing?  It's laughable, but it’s also an awful, torrid thing to accuse me of. I would NEVER take a woman’s choice from her. How dare you.” Sofia spat.

“Here, here!” Moggerhanger cheered Sofia on from the sidelines.

“I’m sorry.”  Nell kicked the ground as she sheepishly offered an apology.

“No, Miss Jackson. You’re closeted, narrow-minded, and lying to yourself. It is I who feels sorry for you!”

An awkward silence followed.

“Look, I'll help you find Thomas. I said I’d do that.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help!” Sofia suddenly raised her voice. Her eyes darkened, and a flicker of orange flame rose within the swirl of blue iris not long after. Perhaps Nell’s accusations had cut more profoundly than she first thought.

A sudden creaking sound from a nearby narrow alley forced Sofia to cast a panicked glance toward the vicinity of the ominous noise. She knew that sound all too well.

Nell keenly inspected the passageway herself; narrowing her eyes from afar, she saw nothing there. Only a brisk gust of wind and a darkening sky above. Rain on such a glorious day? The winter sun had beamed so proudly only a moment earlier. Something wasn’t right.

“What is it? What did you just see?” Nell gripped Sofia's wrist before she could retreat. The lady snatched her arm away, holding down a breath. The Powerful budding mistress of the dark sought to quell a flare-up of threatening mystic energy within herself.

“I simply cannot be around you.” Sofia was barely audible as she stepped away from an equally flustered Nell.

Nell's heart sank noticeably in her chest. It missed several beats as Sofia held such hurt in her eyes. She’d gone too far. Taking advantage was an awful thing to accuse Sofia of and a million miles from the truth rattling around her closeted self. Nell watched the blue of her lady's lenses fade into a bleak grey.

“You bring out this devilry in me. Strain my temper; that is most unsafe right now, trust me,” Sofia sadly sighed.

Nell couldn’t think of what to say quickly enough.

“You think it's just yourself that is perplexed by whatever this is between us? I do not wish to be consumed by it either! Nell fucking Jackson! The hero. The saint. The goody!” Sofia scoffed. Nell was startled to hear Sofia cuss.

“I ain’t a saint!” Nell quickly corrected an emotional Sofia.

“And I am not right for you, regardless of my gender. I’m the bad one, am I not? The infamous and callous Lady Wilmot. Perhaps it is simpler to keep our dynamic as such.” Sofia concluded…. “The hero and the villain. Individually, we’re quite marvellous at both.”

Nell remained silent, adding to the lady’s frustration. Why couldn’t she find the words to diffuse this?

“The sooner I find Thomas, the better.” Sofia offered in a dark rumble.

As Sofia attempted to turn away, Nell pulled her back. The barkeep's daughter was rugged and strong, holding Sofia's body close to her own. Nell reinforced her hold just once via a firm squeeze; Sofia tried admirably to fight the more muscular girl off but failed. She remained held close in Nell's arms, protesting her arrest.

“Let go of me!” Sofia wriggled once more.

 Nell pressed her lips to Sofia’s ear, her voice purposefully low. “I’m sorry for what I said to ya. You’re right; I was out of order,” 

They kept their discussion private as Rasselas and Moggerhanger's interest once more was peeked. Both stood watching tentatively from the safe distance of the carriage.

Sofia lent into Nell's aggressive embrace without intent, conscious thought, or pre-meditation. Their bodies always melded together so naturally.

“Coward! I would have you explain why you kept your back to me all night! Then you slept in the street like a gutter rat rather than a warm bed!” Sofia pressed her brow into Nell’s. Rasselas considered intervening, mistaking the sudden close contact as combat instead of foreplay.

“Why!” Sofia repeated.

Something inside the renegade finally snapped …

“Because I thought you looked bloody lovely...alright! and I didn’t know where to put my hands!”  Nell rushed her confession, fearing delaying it would prevent her from offering Sofia a well-earned glimmer of truth.

Sofia suddenly became still in Nell’s concrete grip; she found the redhead's willing ear to drip an instant reply, and Lady Wilmot kept her tone purposely strained and husky.

“I would have been more than happy to teach you where to put your hands on me all night long. Instead, you slept on the cobbles, rather than tangled up in warm sheets by my side. You damn fool, Nelly Jackson.” Sofia teased with a big smile.

Nell couldn’t help but smile back at a grinning Sofia. Once more for show, she jolted the lady commandingly, “You’re such a bloody flirt, aint ya!” Sofia enjoyed a moment of not being in control as Nell Jackson was far more athletic and physical than herself.

Rasselas attention was taken from the close-up pair by the sharp scribble of an author’s quill behind him.

“What are you doing?” His voice lifted in note.

“Writing chapter seven!” Moggerhanger eagerly replied.

“Surely, by then, they will be ready to make love!” She rolled her eyes.

“Looks like they bloody well need to,” Rasselas added, his cheeks flushed.

• Ready to make way with Eularia passed out in the back. The country road out of smelly ole London Town awaited.

“We headed for the usual meet-up point?” Rasselas checked the tension in the horses’ reins from the driver's seat. He made himself comfortable as he sat next to Sofia, who wished to see more of the roads from up high.

“Yeah, how about you come down here. I'll drive Rass.” Nell cleared her throat nervously.

“I don’t mind.” Rasselas naively missed the point of Nell's sudden desire to drive. Sofia bit her lip. Smiling to herself, Rasselas still sat by her side.

“Seriously, mate. It's fine. You can keep an eye on Moggers. She’s still sleeping off the ale.”

“And the Rum and Scotch...oh, and the wine,” Sofia told tales on Eularia.

Nell cast a disapproving scowl on Sofia for mocking her friend. Sofia held up a hand in apology.

“But Nell, what if she wakes up? She keeps…squeezing my upper arm.”  Rasselas’s voice wobbled. “She’s going to leave a bruise. How do I explain that to Roxy?”

Nell bounced on the spot, a nervous and agitated jittering about her person.

“Man up, Rass. Come on! I want to enjoy the… attractive scenery. You know…the pretty view.” Nell hinted as she gestured towards a smiling Sofia. She couldn’t help but turn her face away, hiding the extent of her joy at having Nell’s attention, finally. Now that the cat was out of the bag pertaining to her attraction to the witch, Nell felt a sudden breeze of confidence about her person.

“But we’ve been down this lane so many times. You’ve seen it all before, Nell. I’ll pick up the pack horse trail towards Windsor Castle, then down towards Blackfriars Tavern, I’ll even take the cobbles towards the new turnpike they’re building. Make London to York route hell of a lot easier that will!” Rasselas was far too excited over topography.

Sofia suddenly let out a brief laugh. Rasselas wasn’t catching on.

“Mate! Don’t make me pull a pistol on ya.  Get out of the fuckin seat so I can sit with her will ya!” Nell barked.

“Oh, OH! He suddenly stood. With a quick pace, he jumped down from the driving seat.”

“You owe me!” Those were his last words before hesitantly opening the carriage door to ride with Eularia.

Nell threw herself athletically into the driver’s seat. Blushing slightly, Sofia raised a knowing brow and smirked. She was impressed that Nell fought so keenly to take the seat next to her.

• A not-so-awkward silence ensued as the horses set off under Nell's command and snap of the Reins.

“I’d quite like to see Windsor Castle.” Sofia kept her eyes ahead. The open road, how adventurous!

Nell took side glances at the pretty Witch. Her side profile is handsomely constructed with a strong jawline and high cheekbones. The dark ridge of her eyebrows only outdone by the fat swell of her top lip. Nell really ought to start up a conversation. The sorceress sat happily in the passenger seat, taking in the untravelled path and country lanes of the outskirts of London. She’d not travelled this far out before.

Nell cleared her throat.

“Venus Honey pot. Really?”  She stated.

Sofia erupted into laughter.

“That’s your opening gambit.” The playful Wiccan bit her bottom lip.

“I just can’t believe you said it.” Nell shook her head in dismay.

“Well, what do you call it?” Sofia truly wondered.

“I …I don’t know if I can repeat what they say in the pubs, not to a Lady.” Nell's cheeks glowed.

“See, now you simply must tell me.” Sofia sniggered at Nell's embarrassment.

“No, sod off!” Nell squirmed in her seat.

 “You know, I might be a Lady. But I have lovingly dipped my fingers in more than a few …Honey pots. No matter how they refer to them in the Taverns.” Sofia struggled to keep a great grin from her lips as Nell turned a colour closer to puce than Sofia thought humanly possible.

“You’re unbelievable you are. Bloody hell.” Nell was starting to enjoy getting to know her arch nemesis somewhat better.

“I think perhaps I spent so long never free to speak my mind; I go a tad too far now that I am cut free from pomp and procedure.”  Sofia stared dead ahead, thinking of her restricted existence before crossing paths with the renegade Nell.

“I think you saved me from all that,” Sofia admitted.

“Me?” Nell enquired.

“I saw you all-powerful, tossing grown men around like ragged dolls. Fast on your feet and brushing bullets aside with a swipe of your hand. I thought, how wonderful to have the ability to free oneself like that. It made me feel foolish and weak. I was envious that you had found the means of independence, and I was still trapped at home with my overbearing father and quite intolerable little brother.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty flash, ain't I? Nell offered a boastful wink.

“I haven’t noticed you use your extraordinary gifts in these few days. Are they not always with you? Where do they come from?” Sofia cautiously asked.

Nell felt a tingle up the back of her spine—a warning from beyond to not disclose the secret that was Billy. More to the point, Sofia, of all people asking, that set off an internal screeching alarm of danger.

“You don’t trust me. I see. You think I might seek to take such a power from you?”

Nell thought precisely that. Something about Sofia's tone constantly rumbled with a foreboding clap of thunderous trouble.

“I don’t trust you yet, not one bit. But I like you a lot more than I did.” Nell offered a smile.

“I should think so, having seen me naked. Bursting in as you did. Totally unaware of my state of undress, indeed.” Sofia raised a suspicious brow.

“Steady on! I never knew you were starkers; honest, I didn’t! …And I’ll be blunt, I never got a proper look at the goods anyway,” Nell offered a disappointed tut. She was getting bolder when flirting with Sofia.

The highwaywoman casually took a swig of ale from a well-placed pot by the reins.

“Well, it’s not my problem you missed out. It’s a great shame for you, though. I quite often enjoy the cut and shape of this body by myself in private.”

Nell spat out a mouthful of that good ale on the thought of Sofia pleasuring herself by the moonlight alone.

The splendid Lady lost her smile on hearing Nell's following line of questioning.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you and Thomas anytime soon? There is something you ain’t telling me, and I don’t like it. It's not helping with the trust bit.”

Sofia delayed her response. She was thinking carefully about how to reply.

The delay raised the hackles on the back of Nell's neck. What was she doing? Was it right to get so close to the infamous Lady Wilmot? Was she being a fool?

“Tis very strange men should be so fond of being wickeder than they are.” Sofia quoted,

“Huh?” Nell frowned confusedly.

“The Toff world, as you would call it. Thomas and I were property, not Children. My father just envisioned a different sort of servitude for him. Nonetheless, he was a prisoner in that house, just like me.  So, we have always stuck together. His dark heart is in part my doing. I feel a great responsibility towards him. He is the way he is because he loves me so, would you not do anything to protect thy sister, Nell? He has paid a great price for protecting and caring for me.”

“What’s happened to him? You know something.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Sofia softly whispered.

“No!” Nell immediately replied.

“Please. I will tell you, but I would rather think of sweeter things right now.” Sofia cast a seductive gaze over the pushy Nell.

“Now you are trying to seduce me for your own means; you don’t wanna answer me,”

“Perhaps not…But are my seductions working, I wonder? Should I ask little Nell?” Sofia smiled. A teasing glance cast down towards the renegade’s crotch.

Nell quickly cleared her throat.

“You wanna drive?” Nell sought a distraction as a vigorous pounding was indeed filling the expanse of her privates.

“That’s a terrible idea. I have never driven a carriage in my life!”

“I’ve seen you ride a horse; you’re alright at that.”

“Alright! I’ll have you know I am quite talented and of a natural aptitude when riding a racehorse; this is an entirely different proposition controlling two steeds and a vehicle.”

Nell suddenly let go of the reins. Sofia’s eyes widened as the highwaywoman casually popped the stopper from her ale and began to sip. She gestured for Sofia to take up the leather riding straps herself. The thick leashes currently whipped wildly about the driver's cab, and the horses picked up their pace considerably.

“Go on then, the horse on the left pulls too much. He’ll have us in the ditch if you don’t grow a pair soon, your Ladyship!”

Sofia snatched up the controls, a look of disbelief on her face as Nell sat casually with one boot up on the side of the seat as she glugged down more ale.

“Come on then, chop-chop, your Highness, get steering these beasts. I ain’t your bloody slave!”

“Oh, but I think you’d quite like to be!” Sofia replied with a glorious smile that had the renegade cough up her ale once more.

Sofia tugged on the reins but had no idea what she was doing. A disgruntled brey sounded out from both horses.

“You’re reckless and hazardously spontaneous!” Sofia paled as she felt the pure might of both animals through the bridles.

“Oh, give it here then!” Nell plonked herself behind Sofia. The witch held her breath as Nell all but mounted her from behind, reaching forward for the controls and driving with Sofia as good as perched on her lap.”

The wiccan could feel the heat emanating from the crotch of the renegades’ britches as she pressed into her firm rump from behind.

The horses calmed and resumed their previous pace and direction. Nell couldn’t help but chuckle as Sofia let out a relieved gasp as stability returned to both the coach and horses.

• Nell peered over Lady Wilmot's shoulder as she felt delicate fingers take a hold of a length of rein once again.

“What, you wanna try again, Wilmot?” Nell teased from behind.

The highwaywoman froze as she felt Sofia tie a length of leather tenderly around her wrist, not so much as to affect the horse’s gait but enough to hold Nell prisoner loosely.

Sofia half-turned, leaning into Nell. Glancing down at the light bondage, she began to tug gently. Lady Wilmot was rather proficient at knots, it seemed. Each gentle pull tightened the thick cut of leather further. Nell winced as the loop of material stretched to its capacity around her slender wrist. Sofia brought her face closer to Nell, casting a look over her facial features but landing on the Highways woman’s lips as always.

“Does this bother you? How does it make me feel?” Sofia whispered.

Nell swallowed, her eyes just as lost and roaming her Lady’s features in equal measure.

“I…I don’t mind it. Feels…good. I feel closer to ya.” Nell confessed much to Sofia’s joy.

“Fing is, I think i might enjoy it even more …when I trust ya.”

Sofia could only nod; her body’s responses were so horribly at odds. A part of her was on fire; the other part found the flames of her dark passions quickly dosed as reality set in. Nell Jackson did not trust the wicked witch one bit.”

“Trust matters when engaging in such acts of dominance play, you’re correct. It simply won’t satisfy either of us otherwise.” Sofia softly whispered so others would not hear.

Nell looked down at her wrist still tied up and held at heel by the currently lust-drunk Sofia. The leather looped and laced around artfully.”

“Full of surprises, ain’t ya.” Nell spoke softly.

“I don’t know. Is it really a surprise to you?” Sofia pulled harder on the restraints; Nell held her ladies’ eyes, refusing to let the slight sting of pain she was feeling show on her face.

“I suppose not. You’re a kinky little toff, ain’t ya.”

Sofia leaned in closer.

“You have no idea.” She whispered before daringly placing a soft kiss on the renegade’s cheek.

“Whoa!” Nell quickly fought to steady the horses, commanding them to a sudden stop. They were rearing up at something further down the path.

“Another time, my Lady,” Nell replied as she warily jumped from the carriage, pistol drawn and ready.

“Show yourself!” Nell shouted.

Chapter Text

“Stand and deliver!”

Nell let out a relieved sigh as only George stood bravely blocking the road ahead. Held up by a child. Nell might not live it down.

“You little shit!” Nell set off after her masked robber of a sister as the child bolted.

“Whatever is going on!” The Lady Moggerhanger awoke with a start.

From the shrubbery, there was a kerfuffle and struggle intertwined with a child’s playful squeal. Sofia watched on curiously as Nell rounded the corner of the dusty lane. The troublesome little one was finally secured and thrown over her shoulder, two stubby legs kicking freely in great protest. Rasselas exited the carriage to see what the fuss was. A broad smile broke out across his face on seeing George. If George was around, then Roxy was too.

“Could have run you down, you daft little piglet.”  

Nell tossed George down on the dirt by the side of the road. She smiled when she saw Rasselas waving heartily at her; her reaction to the dark Sofia perched on the passenger seat was quite different.

“Ahhhh! It’s Lady Wilmot!” She screamed.

“Oi, it’s alright, nipper!  She is traveling with us…for now.” Nell made brief eye contact with the Witch as the Queen of all things dark arched a brow at the quivering pup.

“Say something comforting, for Christ’s sake!” Nell muttered to Sofia in a worn-out whisper.

Sofia rolled her eyes before replying.

“Not to worry, little one. I’ve always found digesting children challenging this early in the day. Later, perhaps?” George gulped audibly as Lady Wilmot teased, much to Nell’s despair.

“It’s gonna be fine. She’s not gonna be a problem.” Nell gave the confused child the thumbs up.

“Ha! She’s not met Roxy yet.” Rasselas noted.

“Nah…Rox will be alright with it.” Nell nodded unconvincingly.

Rasselas blew out a deep breath worryingly.

“It will be alright. I've got this all under control, you’ll see.” Nell stood with her hands on her hips, trying to look confident regarding Roxy being in the same space as Sofia.

Moments later….

“Roxy, stop!” Nell ducked down as a projectile flew passed her head.

“Explain again why she’s here! She’s a monster. Harpy!!!”

Sofia dodged once again as Roxy pitched another rock in her direction. Nell bobbed down just as quickly as her witch. Standing between the two girls suddenly didn’t seem so smart. Luckily, Roxy wasn’t such a great shot.

“I see what you mean. She’s just ecstatic about me being here.”  Sofia sighed.

“I’ll explain if you just STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME!” Nell hollered.

“It’s HER I’m aiming at!” Roxy spat.

“You sure? Because there is a bloke standing in a field two hundred miles away in Manchester who would say otherwise; you're a terrible shot!”

“Nell, just let it be. She has every right to attempt to throw things at me.” Sofia placed a hand on Nell's back from behind.

“Nell? Nell! Why the bloody hell does she think she can be so familiar with you? Why she touching ya? And why are you defending her?” Roxy squealed at Nell, casting a look back and forth between her elder sister and the Wicked Wilmot fiend. “And she’s wearing my bloody dress!” Roxy added.

“We’re gonna get her some threads tomorrow, kid. Just calm down, please.”

“She killed Pop, Nell! or might as well as done.”

“Thomas Killed old Dad, Rox. Not her.” Nell stated.

“You’re defending her…again. What she done to ya?” Roxy shook her head in dismay.

“Might I interject?” Moggerhanger poured herself out of the coach. Looking worse for wear but far more sober than earlier.

“How about we set up camp for the night? Flame cook us some rabbit or something fresh and delightful from that river there. Then we will talk about what’s perhaps best to do next.” Moggers placed a caring arm around Roxy’s shoulder.

Nell admired how quickly the matriarch defused the tension between the girls so easily.

“Fine! Camps already set up just down the lanes. Oh, and by the way… Polly is here. She’s not stopped asking after ya.” Roxy added.

Nell breathed a sigh of relief as the showdown between her sister and the Witch was, for now at least, over. She turned, hands on hips; she now faced an intrigued Sofia.

“Who’s Polly?” Sofia asked, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Nell swallowed hard.

• After a much-needed walk for all and a steady trot for the tired horses, the gang of would-be heroes finally reached the camp.

As they all settled in and awaited their shared meal, Sofia tried not to pay attention as she felt an inquisitive George staring at her. Moggerhanger had tossed her book of smut in the Witch's ' direction, demanding that she proofread and offer edits to her masterpiece. Sofia turned her body away from the little one as she continued to read.

George tilted her head to get a better look at the hand-drawn front cover. Sofia was not concerned. She knew Nell could not read, so why on earth would the child be capable?

“Silk and chains.” George suddenly chirped up, prompting Sofia to cough up an ill-timed mouthful of wine.

“My, aren’t you a clever one.” Sofia hid the book at her side as she all but choked,

“I can read, you know!” The cheeky upstart adjusted her spectacles.

“Well, I'm afraid this particular piece of, dare I call it, literature is not suitable.”

“What’s it about?” Can I have a look?” George pushed, forcing Sofia to smile at the curiosity in this intelligent young lady.

“It’s correct to say, may I have a look? Not can I.  And as I said, you're far too young for the contents of this book. Besides, it's overwritten, full of grand exaggeration, and littered with inaccuracies regarding the female body.” Sofia rolled her eyes at Moggerhanger’s lack of knowledge of not only sex between women but their anatomy altogether.

“But … I like reading.” George seemed disappointed.

“I tell you what, fetch my bag. There is a far more appropriate piece of educational writing. Go and retrieve it.”

George couldn’t move fast enough. Scrambling to her feet and rustling through Sofia's sparse possessions, she found a small blue book.

“I believe I told you to fetch my bag, not search through its contents.” Sofia tutted.

Desperate to impress the clever Sofia. George attempted to read the title as she strolled back over to the seated Wiccan.

“The mal…The mallif.”

“The Malleus Maleficarum. It's Latin for "The Hammer of Witches" or "Hexenhammer" in German. It’s one of the most famous medieval treatises on witches.

George gasped with excitement, forcing Sofia’s smile to broaden as the child sat at her feet, staring up at the witch all starstruck.

 “It was written in 1486. That is not an original copy, so you may borrow it.”

“What’s it about?” George eagerly turned the pages.

“Witchcraft! To refute those who expressed even the slightest scepticism about its reality, to prove that witches were more often women than men, and to educate magistrates on the procedures that could find them out and convict them.”

“Sounds serious.” George glanced down at an exaggerated depiction of ugliness. Each page portrays the persecuted strong women from long ago who only dared to show an interest in astronomy and the science of the day.

Sofia lifted Georges’ chin with the tip of her finger so she might inspect the child's spectacles further.

“Always know thy enemy, Child,” Sofia whispered.

“Is this book scary?” George hoped.

Sofia leaned in close, allowing her eyes to turn black momentarily.

“Very!” She snarled playfully, causing George to laugh loudly.

Across the fire pit, maintaining a watchful gaze, Roxy served as a camp cook as Nell stoked the embers.

“What is she even doing here? I don’t like it, Nell. Any moment she could turn on us.” Roxy grumbled as she kept her eye on George sitting with the Witch.

Nell stared long and hard at Sofia as she taught George to say certain words from the book in both Latin and English.

“Do you think she’s attractive?” Nell seemed lost in her thoughts, forcing Roxy to furrow her brow as she tended to the meat within the fire pit. Nell’s sassy sibling glanced at Sofia, briefly taking her eyes from the cooking pot.

“I hate to say it, but yeah. She’s nice-looking, all her hair down like that. She’s also dangerous, Nell. Fancy bringing her here.” Roxy vigorously stirred the pot.

“Can …I mean, may you teach me some spells, Lady Wilmot.?” George excitedly asked.

“No!” Roxy immediately shouted as Nell dished out poached trout for the hungry travellers, all before Sofia might correct the child’s poor grammar for a second time.

“Aw, Nell. Pleeease!” George begged.

“Not a chance! The only spell Lady Wilmot’s gonna be casting today is making you vanish to ya bloody bed!”

“Or she could turn you into a pig!” George folded her arms and stood up to Nell, much to Sofia’s amusement.

Eularia stepped in, thanking Roxy for the hearty meal as she passed by.

“Come, child. That’s not very nice.”

“Is it not?  Nell already eats like a pig anyway.” George wittily replied, forcing an unexpected cackle from Eularia. She did adore this miniature version of Nell. As for Sofia, she thought this youngster brighter than the stuck-up Toff had come to expect from a town’s person. She really was a smarty pants.

Sofia was momentarily caught off guard in her merriment as the child suddenly sat upon her lap; all within the camp mirrored the wide eyes and dropped open jaw of the ambushed Lady Wilmot.

“Do you have a gentleman friend?” George innocently asked. Gaining the attention of the nearby Polly.

“No. I do not.” Sofia instantly replied, still shell-shocked by the child’s proximity to her.

“Why not?  You’re very pretty …ain’t she lovely, Nell.”  George hollered over the campfire.

“Yea…she’s not half bad.”  Nell shrugged her response.

“Not half bad indeed,” Sofia repeated, arching a brow at Nell, who blushed profusely and cast her gaze back to the fire.

“Well, I think you’re very beautiful, Lady Wilmot,” George added.

Eularia leant over into Nells personal space.

“Why is it a small child has managed to compliment this woman’s good looks when it has taken you almost four days, you imbecile! An eight-year-old Casanova is outfoxing you!” Eularia whispered across the flames to a sighing Nell.

“Thank you, George. That’s very sweet of you to say. Might I add, when you are all grown up. If you still think a lady is very beautiful, you should tell her immediately; it does not matter what anyone else thinks. Take her by the hand and offer a small kiss of endearment on the back of it. Do not remove her glove unless she permits. That is good manners.” Sofia smiled kindly towards the cheeky George.

“Nell’s never kissed anyone.”  George suddenly announced, “Well, Polly kissed her, but I don’t think Nell liked it,” George added, causing Lady Moggerhanger to cough up a fishbone.

Sofia suppressed a devilish smile.

“Is that so? Although, you should not share such secrets. It’s very personal and not for others to hear about.” Sofia waggled a finger at George.

“Alright, that’s enough. Bed! Come on, Nipper.”  Nell stood quickly to silence the tell-tale minor.

“But she ain’t had a love! She never did with her Captain Jackson, and there ain’t been no one else.”

George let out a yelp as she was suddenly lifted into the air via her collar by Nell.”

“Wait!” I’ve not said goodnight to the Lady!” George struggled in Nell’s hold, finally slipping free of her night coat.

Sofia struggled to hide a smile as George rushed towards her again, taking her hand and kissing the back before bowing gracefully.”

“Goodnight, my Lady.”

“Goodnight to you, kind George.” Sofia curtsied.

“Bed...right now! Before I drop you off at Newgate prison!” Nell carried the small troublesome child towards her bedroll by Roxy on the other side of the firepit.

The sun was quickly replaced by moonlight; the cobbled-together bunch of unlikely companions warmed themselves by the campfire. Polly set a scornful gaze across the short distance between herself and Sofia, envious that Nell had barely left the handsome brunette’s side all evening since putting the little one to bed.

“Your friend despises me so. I almost admire the dissension in her eyes. It took me quite some time to perfect such a loathing lingering discord.” Sofia raised her jar of rum to the disgruntled campmate.

“Stop it.” Nell rolled her eyes at Sofia for teasing Polly.

“She’s quite taken with you,” Sofia observed.

“She thinks I’m a fella. Or she did. George corrected her, but she's a bit…. kooky. I’m fairly certain she still thinks I'm a bloke. She’s a nice girl, though. She's clever like you.”

“Seems your rough and ready ways attract us smart ones.”

Nell spat out a laugh. Gaining the attention of Roxy once more. As far as the protective sister was concerned, a demon currently sat far too close to her beloved Nelly.”

“Maybe that’s what you need. A nice girl. Not a bad one. Having said that, I think you rather like a challenge.” Sofia’s eyes scanned Nell’s face in detail.

“Is that what you think.” Nell set a stern gaze on the engaging Witch. Sofia leaned closer to Nell, her eyes on the smitten renegade's lips. Could they kiss here? Right now?

Sofia was startled as a pile of clothes was tossed at her feet, collapsing the conduit of sexual tension between herself and the ensnared Nell.

“Here! We held up a wagon only yesterday. They’re men's shirts, but there is a nice skirt for a lady. I want my bloody dress back!” Roxy snapped.

“As you wish.” Standing, dusting herself off, Sofia headed for the treeline to change.

Nell got up to her feet quickly, she set after Sofia before feeling Roxy’s hand on her arm.

“I think she knows how to dress herself.”

“I'm just making sure she doesn’t scarper,” Nell weakly replied. Roxy narrowed her eyes suspiciously on Nell.

“I’ll be right back with her; just enjoy the fire and Rass. He’s missed ya. He really has.”

Nell was careful where she tread as she entered the woodland with Sofia. Only the crisp crunch of leaves beneath light feet alerted Nell to the sorceress's proximity.

Reaching a clearing, Sofia turned to face her pursuer.

Bathed in only moonlight, Sofia passed the bundle of clothes to Nell. The sensual witch started with the first button at the neck of Roxy’s dress. This time, Nell did not turn away as Sofia began to strip. The enchantress was pleased to see Nell’s eyes roaming over her form.

“Good girl,” Sofia whispered across the night air. Nell hated to admit the immediate effect the stern praise had on her.

Slowly, all but one button remained fastened. Sofia teased and toyed with the thick fabric clasp one last time before letting the entire length of material drop. The dress then pooled around her ankles.

Nell stood perfectly still; her eyes did not leave the body before her though.

“You…you said you didn’t get a proper look. It’s the least reward I might offer since you took several ill-placed chippings and rocks to the face earlier in my defence.”

 Nell's eyes continued to roam Sofia's curves. Her thighs were much thicker than Nell would have thought, her backside a perfect pert bubble jutting out proudly. Her stomach was flat but lacked Nell’s athletic icing of defined muscle. No, Lady Wilmot’s figure was very female. Her hips rounded, and her breasts were pert and much larger than Nell’s. Her nipples were dark and currently gave evidence of the extent of the cold air of the woodland.

“Am I to die this way? Freezing to death while you get your fill of me?” Sofia teased.

Nell stepped closer. Sofia fought the urge to leap into the highwaywoman's arms as something primal took possession of Nell and burned brightly in her eyes. Sofia reached out for the bundle of clothes, only to observe Nell keep them out of reach.

“I …I will help you get these on. Can’t have you tumbling over in the woods now, can we.”

The forest air revealed both women’s labouring lungs; their heated breath billowed as it met the cold.

“I suppose not.” Sofia fought off a croak lodging itself in her quickly drying throat.

“Isn’t this how it goes anyway as a lady? Didn’t you have someone that dressed you?”

“Yes, but she was sixty-four years old and quite ancient and blind.”

“She’d probably still do a better job than I’m about to do. I ain’t never wore a skirt.”

Reaching for the silky bluish-green shirt. Sofia allowed Nell to sew each arm into the sleeves, adjusting the stiff collar before slowly buttoning the material from bottom to top; she carefully draped her Lady in silk once more. Nell couldn’t help but cast her eyes over Sofia’s breasts; the lady herself couldn’t help but present them for inspection. She took note of the hunger in the highwaywoman’s eyes, puffing out her chest for Nell to give her the best view. Sofia Wilmot had never once felt such a strong urge to have a woman suckle at her breast in public, not before now. Not before Nell bloody Jackson…

“Make sure you stay on your feet.” Nell suddenly broke Sofia’s trance.

At that, the sorceress's face was one of stunned arousal when Nell suddenly dropped to her knees right before her. Sofia swallowed hard as she looked down into Nell's eyes; that pretty tomboy face was now in line with her crotch, and her warm breath was only just out of reach to tickle that same responsive, tender skin.

Nell Jackson was on her knees before a half naked Sofia in the privacy and nonjudgement of the forest.

“Nell…what are you doing?” Sofia stammered. She felt an unfamiliar sensation overcome her. Was it…nervousness? Surely not. Why did it matter so much to get the conquest of Nell Jackson right?”

Nell held Sofia's gaze from below as the witch began an obvious pant. Nell liked this, being on her knees before a breathless, more experienced Sofia Blancheford.

“Make sure you’re steady.” Nell swallowed, her gaze darting between the blown-out pupils of Lady Wilmot and her well-placed honey pot.

Sofia's hand found its way into Nell's red hair, absentmindedly pulling the robber’s mouth closer to her sex. Nell unraveled the stolen skirt, opening up the waistband by Sofia’s feet and gesturing for her to step in. Sofia complied, increasing her grip slightly as she kept her balance. The highwaywoman loathed to declare she enjoyed the rough touch and discomfort as Sofia's nails dug into her scalp, pulling her hair harder than was needed. Sofia looked down upon a submissive Nell; her expression was unreadable, but the renegade did not seem uncomfortable in her lady’s dominant hold.

“My god, the things I would like to teach you,” Sofia whispered down to her eager-to-learn nemesis.

Nell followed the skirt on its upward journey, now standing upright and tugging the loose material over Sofia's thicc thighs. The witch gasped as Nell's fingertips dug into her hips, briefly holding the skirt in place.  The working-class girl had a firm grip and strong hands as she served as the lady's attendant.

Sofia’s far more delicate, well-kept hands fell upon Nells. They stood still in the cool forest air. That same frosty chill was now getting the better of the Witch, Sofia leaned into the heat of Nell; they began to sway, just as they did on the dancefloor days earlier. Nose to nose and breast to breast. Sofia pressed her lips against Nell's cheekbone. The renegade inhaled as the sorceress inflicted a nibble of teeth as a warning before pressing down harder; she then quickly sought to soothe the bite with a gentle press of tongue over the same spot, like some time-served pre-mating ritual.

They danced slowly, swaying and clinging to one another. Sofia cast down her eyes as Nell pulled at the clasp of her own belt.

Sofia quickly stayed the hand of her lover-to-be. Regardless of this first sensible instinct, blue eyes burnt as an orange swirl of fire and power as lust overcame the Wiccan’s better judgment.

"I need you to feel it, what you do to me. I'm ...wet down there. Anytime you come near me." Nell confessed, even though she was embarrassed to tell Sofia. Her new found honesty forced the Witch's eyes to roll as a sudden on-set of great arousal ignited her powers further.

“Must you agitate this darkness in me?” Sofia weakly protested.

“I...I want you, Wilmot? I ..want to trust ya.” Nell whispered into Sofia's heated ear. The Witch was now contemplating having her way with Nell with the ancient oaks and sycamores staring down upon them, regardless of the consequences. Sofia knew all too well, any increase in her dark powers would allow detection from that damn creature.

A loud snap sounded out from within the trees. Quickly retracting her hand from Nell's belt, Sofia once more looked fearfully into the blackness of the tree line. Nell stepped forward, taking the cowering Sofia into a protective hold. The Worried Witch welcomed the gallant protector in Nell.

“Same thing again? Tell me what you're seeing.” Nell once more demanded.

Sofia let out a relieved gasp of air.

“Not to worry, our stalker is far closer to human than something slithering from another world.” Sofia tutted, and then Nell spied their voyeur for herself.

“Bloody hell, Polly!” Nell uncoupled herself from Sofia.

“Wait!” Sofia called Nell back to her,

Sofia placed a hand affectionately on Nell's face, cupping her cheek in the palm of her hand… “Soon, once I have earned your trust. Then I shall have you as mine.”  Nell could only nod.

The two headed back to the camp as the shadowy figure beyond daintily trotted away at pace.

 Nell felt Roxy’s suspicious eyes lathering their disapproval over the star-crossed pair.  Nothing much had really happened, but Nell had wanted it to. Of that now, she was very sure. Her lack of trust in Sofia bubbled about her inside just as hotly as her attraction though.

Nell approached Roxy while Sofia found her path blocked by an arms-folded, rather brave Polly.

 “I have my eye on you.” Polly raised her chin proudly, her tone, education, and manner as regal as Sofia’s.

“I had taken note. Did you enjoy the view?” Sofia mirrored Polly’s arms-folded stance.

“Fetch me my quill! This is getting juicier by the moment!” Moggerhanger slapped the arm of a comfortably seated Rasselas.”

“Ouch!” He sobbed. Soothing the injured spot, Moggers had belted him out of nowhere.

“The view? Actually, yes, I did. You're well-proportioned and have quite the generous…riding seat.” Polly made no effort to hide her peeking once more at Sofia’s behind, now wrapped up in a fashionable billowing skirt, the silk of a man's shirt stuffed into the waistband, the sleeves now stylishly rolled up to her elbow. The good-looking sorceress always made the drabbest, ill-fitting of materials look chic.

Sofia arched a high brow at Polly’s lack of filter.

“I would have you made aware; I saw our robber man first.” Polly tossed her hair and pursed her lips.

“Man?…you think Nell is a …” Sofia shook her head in confusion. This younger girl was most peculiar and baffling the Wiccan's brains; what were these eccentricities within Nell’s encampment?

“Yes, how the light of goodness gleams brightly from his eyes.”  Polly signed lovingly as she glanced at a paling Nell just out of earshot.

“Oh, I see. You think yourself my rival.”   Sofia whispered, stepping a little closer into Polly’s space. She admired the hutzpah of this fellow Lady of the realm. Sofia refused to stand down as Polly sought to stand taller.

“How adorable and utterly delusional you are.” Sofia smiled broadly, with confidence shimmering in her eyes.

-“I cannot hear what they're saying! Get me closer!” Eularia demanded as she attempted and failed to stand, much to Roxy’s eye-roll. Rasselas went to the floundering Lady Moggerhanger’s aid as she tried to get up.

Sofia looked about the campfire, such a band of misfits about her person. The army of Nell Jackson was utterly peculiar.

“Perhaps its most fortunate I am not at arms, riding across the battlefield towards all of you. Such an odd mix of sheep Nell Jackson has acquired.”

Polly stepped more into Sofia's safe space.

“It is better to have a lion at the head of an army of sheep than a sheep at the head of an army of lions.” Polly briskly quoted, much to Sofia’s pleasure.

“Daniel Dafoe. How well-read you are, Rival.” Sofia politely bowed, Acknowledging Polly’s equal intelligence and wit.

-“Oh… it's nothing more than a literary toff-off!”  Eularia tossed down her quill frustratingly,

“I thought they might be at war over the affections of Miss Jackson!”

“What! Nell’s not that way…is she?” Roxy furrowed her brow, gazing at Rasselas, who was conveniently looking the other way.

Sofia's eyes currently locked with Nell’s. The amber glow of the campfire furthered the copper tone of her red hair. The renegade was handsome; Sofia only now took note of what kindness was to be found in Nell’s earnest eyes. There was a sense of warmth and hospitality deep within. Nell had a look of the Catholic peasants who fled the poverty of England's neighbouring emerald isle about her. Sofia surmised some of that whole-hearted, gentle-natured heritage to be stitched with Nell’s somewhat frostier Anglican bloodline.

Malleus Maleficarum, The Hammer of Witches, it identifies Wiccan demons as having red hair and green eyes. Sofia smiled; Nell had more of the traditional Witch about her than the dark-haired, pale-skinned Sofia ever did.

Polly keenly observed how Sofia’s eyes lingered on the renegade and how her skin flushed whenever her coveting was duly returned in equal measure.

“I saw the cloud, though I did not foresee the storm.” Polly whispered.

“Excuse me?” Sofia shook Nell from her thoughts.

“You're falling in love.” Polly couldn’t help but warmly smile. As much as she revered Nell, she was far too romantic to stand in the way of Cupid's sharp arrow and Aphrodite’s firm grasp.

“Nonsense. I've spent days with her. And I am keen to let her have at my body, not my heart. It's never my heart.” Sofia's top lip curled into a slight snarl. Her dark nature rising.

“He that hath truth on his side is a fool as well as a coward if he is afraid to own it because of other men’s opinions.” Polly recited once more.

“But I am not closeted, nor am I ashamed to confess my attraction to another woman, rather than have people believe I have misidentified her gender as some would pretend. I am happy to burn at the stake for my preference. I shall not be on the arm of a man ever again!” Sofia scoffed; she refused to be bested by this odd woman.

“The cowardice does not lay in the celebration of your sexual preference; it lies in you not wanting people to see there is good in you. That you might deserve someone as brave and noble as Nell Jackson.” Polly rightly observed.

“And might I add, gender matters not to me. Stated or not. He, she, they…I don’t mind.”

Sofia, for a moment, took stock of herself and her responses.

“Well said. You are wiser than I in these matters, Polly Honeycombe.” Sofia conceded.

Sofia could only turn away, strolling casually with that haughty swagger about her gait. Inside, chaotic turmoil ripped through her innards and rattled her very bones. The clever Polly had read the guarded sorceress well.

“I would happily be friend to you,” Polly called after Sofia.

The witch blurted out a condescending laugh. This group of misfits and their village of tenderness and soppy affections. How pathetic it was.

“I have no need of friends,” Sofia threw her reply into the darkness as she sought some solitude across the other side of the camp.

“We shall see,” Polly whispered her reply.

Sofia cast her eyes up to the clear night sky above as an enchanting performance of twinkling stairs entertained all below. Could it be? The renegade had burrowed so deep into what remained of Sofia’s soul already. Any sense of light within Sofia had been mauled, chewed up, and ravaged by her compulsion to delve into the dark arts. Sofia Blancheford was no ordinary little girl from childhood, as her father quickly learned and feared. A powerful woman?... what an absurdity. It must be contained; it must be controlled.

Sofia was not surprised to hear that familiar creaking sounding out from the trees again. This time, she merely flinched but did not run to tell Nell. Their dalliance in the forest had been too much. Sofia knew it. She had wanted to take Nell so desperately; the shadow that hunted her had finally found its target.

“I think it time we got better acquainted, creature.” Sofia bravely stood her ground.

“Little Sofia Blancheford…how you've grown.” A shrill voice crept along with the quickly forming mist, converging on the Wiccan's position.

“The time to strike Nell Jackson is now, and her sprite.” The voice called to something hidden from sight within Sofia. Something old and vengeful.

“I know what you have asked me to do to the heart of Nell Jackson. But I shall not be a party to such villainy. She is…worthy of her gifts.” Sofia sought to shut the voice out.

“Would you like to hear your brother scream again?”

 Sofia sank to her knees as, from within the mist, Thomas's terrified cries ripped through the dank atmosphere from beyond.

“Let him be! He is the way he is because of me. It's me you want…not him!”

“IT'S NELL JACKSON AND THE SPRITE WE WANT!” An ensemble of screeching voices sounded out.  “WE HAD A DEAL! THOMAS FOR THE RENEGADE’S BROKEN HEART!”

Sofia lowered her head and tilted a sharp ear towards the ground. What was that? An intermittent rumble. The straining of thick vines wrapping around tree trunks and cracking bark serenaded the woodland. Was that thunder? … how could it come from the earth, not the sky above?

The Witch upturned her hand, slowly rotating it in the night air. The rain, It defied physics and travelled upwards!

“Please, not here. There is a child present.”  Sofia whispered her plea to the darkness.

A chill burst out from the base of Sofia’s spine right to the very top. A phantom cool hand placed itself on the back of her neck from nowhere. This was not normal. Something lurking in the shadows now filled her heart with dread. This oddity was only happening within her vicinity. The rain fell on her, not the campfire, Nell, or her family.

 “The earth…it moves, it breathes.!” Sofia whimpered.

From her position. Sofia marvelled at the clearing before her, like the surface of an agitated ocean. Waves of gathered-up leaves and foliage lashed about the forest floor. Back and forth, smashing up against the collected rocks and tree roots and splashing the circumference with a unique seafoam. The Witch narrowed her eyes on the thick black mucus the ground suddenly coughed up.

Horrified, Sofia watched as the creature that had haunted her emerged from the goop. It glared at the Witch before burrowing its snake-like form into the earth, delving deep and heading straight for the camp, not Sofia.

“Nell...” Sofia managed in a broken whisper.

She watched the creature tear up trees and foliage on a very direct path to the Renegade and her loved ones.

From the warmth of the fire, Nell suddenly stood. Rasselas felt the ground as an evident vibration grew more vigorous. Knocking over pots and pans and rocking the carriage and horses considerably.

“It's her! I warned you, Nell!” Roxy screamed.

Nell stood in a battle stance, her clenched fists at her side and her feet far apart. She was relieved to feel her long-lost sprite hit her hard in the back, forcing a blaze of light to overcome her eyes. Nell felt the intimacy of that gift of strength and power for which she was famous. Finally, her gifts had returned.

“No time to explain, Nelly.” Billy's voice reverberated in her mind.

“WILMOT! TELL ME THIS AINT YOU!”   Nell prayed Sofia was not betraying her. A crack of emotion littered her tone.

"Of course its her! What we gonna do, Nell?" Roxy panicked as George clattered into her, seeking protection.

From within a cloud of foreboding dark mist, Sofia Wilmot's eyes darkened as she watched the creature barrel towards the campsite.

“Run...renegade, please.,” Sofia whispered.

Chapter Text

Nell stood before her trembling pack, her gaze fixed on Sofia's mysterious figure. The radiant woman was now shrouded in a menacing dark mist. Had Nell interpreted her Witch's distant words correctly? Run?  

Was that a plea to seek escape from a concerned ally? Or was it a shot of fair warning from a formidable foe? The hurt searing through Nell’s veins compelled her to respond with mutiny towards her would-be lover.

“Run? Oh, I don’t think so, Wilmot! I knew I couldn’t trust a selfish Tory Toff like you!”Nell's words were not just a response but a thunderous declaration of her unyielding defiance and unwavering determination to stand her ground.

Wounded, Sofia's worry for Nell quickly turned to a dark scowl. She hollered back at the seething Renegade, her voice echoing within the trees from such distance. Sofia noted how her adversary’s eyes glowed bright with the power of her sprite.

“Fine!  Have it your way, you utter imbecile! If this is how it must be, I shall leave you to your demise! I was a fool to think this could play out any other way! You don’t need nor want my aid!” Sofia's voice, laced with a bitter sting of betrayal, echoed through the forest.

The Wiccan’s eyes turned pitch black as she averted her gaze from Nell Jackson. She felt the ground beneath her vibrate with the raw power of the ancient creature below as it advanced towards Nell's defenceless flock of sheep; their terrified bleats pierced the air.

 The Aristocrat's face contorted with a mask of vengeance, yet within, her heart quivered under the weight of an indiscernible burden. Her typically malevolent instincts clashed with a surge of chivalry, creating a maelstrom of emotions that drowned the limited space within her black heart.

A pang of offense at Nell's lingering distrust and accusatory tone attempted to meld, unsuccessfully, with a surprising surge of affection that went far beyond mere sexual attraction.

 A tumultuous mix of conflicting emotions swirled within the Wiccan, but not only for Miss Jackson. What would become of the curious Polly, the eccentric and somewhat amateur lesbian fanfic author Moggerhanger, what of her dear Rasselas? Nell had taken on the role of shepherd for this motley crew, and now they were in danger. Sofia despised the idea that they had begun to feel like friends in such a short time. Had she stumbled upon a Coven of sorts?  Despite her heavy heart, the darkness within Sofia Wilmot prevailed as she continued her retreat from those in need. The weight of her conflicting emotions was almost unbearable, threatening to consume her as she turned her back on the ones she had come to care for.

“Nell!” Roxy screamed as the creature got closer.

Nell’s battle-ready posture sank into heartache as Sofia seemingly left her alone in the face of such danger. Her shoulders slumped, and her head lowered briefly as Sofia turned her back on the imminent attack.

“Nell! What do we do? Orders, sir!” Rasselas yelled as he dragged Polly and Moggerhanger away from the bucking horses spooked by a quickening storm

Nell addressed her flock sincerely and raised a proud chin to the dark sky above. She only shook her head at a retreating Sofia.

“Quick, get deeper into the forest and…. “Whack!!”

From beneath their feet, the creature that had stalked Lady Wilmot for all her days reared itself up from the compacted mulch and earth, tossing Nell Jackson like a rag doll far across the clearing. Her body struck a nearby Oak. The most vulnerable section of her skull contacted the solid body of tree trunk, Nell Jackson immediately fell unconscious.

“Get up, Nelly? …NELLY!” Billy hollered from within to no effect.

Chaos ensued. The brave Rasselas found himself separated from Roxy in aiding Moggerhanger’s escape to the trees. He hollered aloud as the horses suddenly bolted away from such turmoil and threat. The creature roared intimidatingly as it slithered about the once-safe space.

Awoken from slumber with a horrified start, a quick-thinking George had sought to clamber up a nearby withered elm. Still, its fragile bark and slippery underbelly made it difficult for tiny feet and hands to find purchase. Each futile attempt saw the pup back down on her bottom, and every desperate try thereafter tired the child even more so.

The creature hovered with nefarious intent above an oblivious Nell. Polly bravely set forward, shielding the renegade's body with her own without thought for her safety. Lady Moggerhanger reached out for the stranded George, only to find she could not get to the child in time. George took great strides back as the creature turned its attention to her; she was now the target.

The broken heart of Nell Jackson. That was the mission the dark forces from beyond set out for the complicated Sofia Wilmot to complete. If those seductions now seemed fruitless, then by the loss of a sibling, evil would take Nell Jackson's heart all the same. The prize of owning Nell's power and that of her sprite was paramount.

“George!” Moggerhanger shrieked as the creature left the discarded form of the renegade for the vulnerable, isolated child. Roxy leaped forward, grabbing George's hand as something unseen gripped her ankles from below. A sharp tug saw the child taken waist-deep into the mulch with little effort.

“I’ve got you!” Roxy promised as she struggled to keep a hold of George’s wrist. Another sudden tug forced both girls to scream. “Roxy…don’t let me go!” George cried.

“I won’t…I promise. I’ve got you, always.”

Roxy’s grip loosened as the creature below seemed to enjoy toying with both sisters.

“Come on, Nell! Please wake up.” Roxy sobbed as only the tips of George’s fingertips remained in her grasp. The sister’s eyes locked; Roxy tried to stop an apparent flash of fear overcome her gaze as she looked upon a now neck-deep George. Roxy fought valianty to prevent the very earth itself from taking her sister from her.

Alas, one final startling tug saw the terrified child sucked deep into the earth. She was gone…

Roxy screamed a sharp and shrill wail at such frequency Eularia thought it might shatter the stars themselves.

A retreating Sofia suddenly stopped as the ungodly sound ripped from the irksome teenagers’ lips. It penetrated the cold night air and forced the good in Sofia to rise.

Stationary, unable to move, Lady Wilmot lowered her head, her back still turned to the chaos behind her. Her eyes rolled as she felt a symbiotic pleasure with the creature below, which reveled in the fact that, finally, it had something in its possession that might kill the resolute superpower within Nell Jackson.

“The child” Sofia whispered to herself.

Turning to face the carnage across the trees, Sofia Wilmot clenched her fists, an unmistakable crack of knuckle the first sign of rebellion to her inner demon.

“My clever little George. Oh…I think not, creature!”

Sofia grit her teeth as she finally acknowledged the light within. She smiled happily as a regal-looking, distinct steed approached her from within the chaos and mist. A lone, white horse. How perfect, she thought.

“Yar!”

Sofia’s firm thighs clamped around the body of her steed. With no time to saddle up, the Witch rode bareback and pulled commandingly on the animal’s mane. The horse was compelled by both its rider's competence and the forbidden incantation that took hold of its choices. Indeed, a darkened Sofia Blancheford was significantly advanced in power when she allowed the vault door holding hostage her ancient powers to creep open. The slab of pure muscle between her legs knew his rider was an expert; it could not resist her powers of coercion either.

 “Yar! Yar!” Sofia pulled downwards, forcing her steed to bank left and scale a steep ridge to evade the seemingly victorious creature, a hulking beast with razor-sharp fangs and glowing red eyes. In its retreat, it left nothing but panic and terror upon the defenceless pack of misfits.  Sofia knew George still lived, albeit she was currently held in the monstrous creature's jaws as it returned to its domain.

On reaching the camp, a sudden clattering of hooves displaced the earth around a shell-shocked Roxy. The heartbroken teenager found herself looking up into Lady Wilmot's vibrant blue eyes. She did a double take as a gloved hand reached out for her, her shock turning into disbelief.

“Come, quickly!  Take my hand. I can track this creature. I will not have this. It is time these men and beasts learned the full scope of powerful women scorned.” Sofia’s hand still reached downwards for a seated Roxy as the gutted teenager seemed incapable of thought.

“For heaven’s sake, take my hand!” Sofia raised her voice, startling the sobbing teen.

No response…

“Young Lady!... it must be now, or we will lose too much ground!” Sofia repeated

Roxy frowned upon the regal Sofia as she sat bold as brass on horseback and bellowing orders. Who did she think she was?  

“This is no time to be so … anti-establishment. Are you truly as stubborn as thy sister?” Sofia half smiled. Her hand was still on offer to the middle Trotter sibling.

“Roxy, go with her! I will tend to Nell!” Polly exclaimed, still suffering shock herself. She and Moggerhanger sought to revive Nell, who was still out for the count.

Despite the apparent tremble, Sofia was grateful to feel Roxy’s hand slip into her own. The Witch’s strength surprised the youngster as she hauled her up to sit behind; the horse reared up as it made itself comfortable with an additional rider.

Sofia peered down upon Nell. She was pleased to see a quickening rise and fall of her chest and breath leaving her lips. She lived; she was okay. Polly saw that same halo of light energy envelop the dark Sofia Wilmot as she took in the face of the good-hearted Nell Jackson.

“Love endures all things and forgives.” Polly rightly read the trepidation in Sofia's gaze.

Sofia sadly smiled, her eyes still scanning the peaceful expression on her renegade features. Her sprite was locked deep within, desperately trying to revive and repair his host. Without his possession, Sofia was sure the blow might have killed Nell instantly, such was the blunt force trauma. Sofia looked lovingly upon a clean, knocked-out Nell as she lay slumped in Polly’s arms.

“You were correct, Lady Honeycombe. I…I did not foresee the storm.”

“Neither did our renegade. Entirely without autonomy, her light heart is compelled to prevent yours from breaking amid the dark.”

Sofia's famed frown donned her features.

“I'm afraid my heart is already broken.” She briskly responded.

Polly could not muster a quick enough retort.

“Take care of her. She is … hot-headed and foolish. She is the most infuriating woman I have ever encountered!” Sofia giddied up the horse as she prepared for departure.

Polly stood, inappropriately demanding Sofia address the rising light within her.

“Say it out loud! Say that you are falling in love!”

Sofia did not offer a reply. She need not; her eyes told the soulful Polly the full extent of Lady  Wilmot's feeling for the brave Renegade as she cast her eyes over her form one last time.

“She can do better, Polly Honeycombe. And as you said…you saw our robber man first.” Sofia winked, silently permitting Polly to seek the affections of her Renegade.

“But it is not me Nell wants. It is you she desires. It is you she wishes to get closer to.”

“Then she is more of a fool than I thought.” Sofia scoffed.

The horse responded to its mistress’s command. Roxy clung tightly to the body of Lady Wilmot as they turned to pursue the stolen George.

“Do not let her come after me. Stand clear!” Boldly, Lady Wilmot forced Rasselas to allow her to take her leave. He quickly grabbed Roxy’s hand.

“I shall see she is returned to you, old friend.” Take care of your flock and each other. Sofia yelled at the remains of Nell's band of misfits.

“Wait!” Rasselas called after Sofia before the horse broke into a gallop.

“Take this!” Rasselas tossed a sword at Sofia, who caught it mid-air impressively.

“She will be safe with me.” Sofia nodded with a smile to her old friend.

“But what about you?” Rasselas choked.

“It matters not. It is my duty to fix this. It is my fault darkness affects the innocent, as always.”  Sofia calmly replied as she rode off in pursuit of George.

Nell stirred slightly, a frown on her features as if she knew her lady was leaving her behind. Polly comforted her brave leader, and Moggerhanger clutched her heart as Sofia disappeared into the mist.

“Is it wrong that I find her so utterly irresistible right now? So gallant and masterful. I am so at odds with myself. How handsome a woman she is.” Eularia sighed longingly alongside an equally taken Polly.

“Our dark lady arises a hero…finally,” Polly whispered to the incapacitated highwaywoman.

Sofia’s horse lowered its head, sprinting into the wind and obeying its mistress without question. Mighty legs belted out a breakneck pace, and hooves ripped up clumps of packed dirt and dislodged the compacted earth—such was the ferocity of our lady’s steed.

A long downhill stretch gave Sofia eyes on the creature's path, its trail of destruction an obvious breadcrumb trail as it returned to its lair. Roxy feared this horse would take flight; such was his lightning pace at Sofia’s command, the girl could only cling on. Her arms wrapped around Sofia’s slender waist from behind, her face buried into a soft gathering of dark curls that fell down the aristocrat's back. Roxy was not one for prayer, but at this moment, she sought the divine intervention of anything light and otherworldly to defend George. The irony that the devil currently rode on horseback to her rescue was not lost on the anxious girl.

The hilt of Sofia’s sword was held tightly in one hand as she rode her powerful stallion into the face of danger. They had to make it! Slowing, Sofia realized she was running out of a clear path. She saw the ominous mist gathering again and a dank opening to her enemy's nest. From her vantage point, it had taken George into the depths of its hovel.

“Goddess, No… faster!”  Sofia whispered into the horse’s ear as she leaned into the downhill momentum. Sofia felt the teenager grip her tighter from behind as the horse naturally picked up pace upon the uneven downward gradient.

Finally out of road, Sofia leaped heroically from her horse. Roxy's shriek of surprise forced the determined Witch to turn back around. The teenager looked shell-shocked still.

“Lady Wilmot…don’t leave me alone… please.   Roxy sniffled.

“Here, take this.” Sofia offered the gifted sword to her passenger,

“What about you?” Roxy mustered a level of concern for the witch.

Sofia simply allowed a ball of flame to conjure in her hands as a similar fire burned in her eyes.

“I have no need of your earthy weapons.” She confidently assured the pale-faced teen.

“If I do not return within the half strike of a bell tower, return to Rasselas. He will care for you until Nell can do so.

“I ain’t going anywhere without George!” Roxy snarled, finally finding some spine.

Sofia smiled charmingly at the younger girl, hoping to disarm her thoughts of joining her in such a torrid environment.

“It seems you are indeed just as stubborn as thy sister. Genetic rebellion against authority.” She quipped.

“Dead right! Our Pa raised us well. I’m coming in with you!”

“Certainly not!” Sofia held up a hand, halting Roxy as she tried to dismount.

Roxy scowled at the older woman as she sought to give her orders once more.

“I …I need you to stay out here in case George seeks her escape. She is clever and mischievous, is she not?” Sofia lied admirably to protect Roxy from further danger.

“You must guard this entrance. I cannot simultaneously enter this place and offer protection to its only known exit.

Reluctantly, Roxy nodded in agreement. She would remain outside the creature’s domain.

With each step Sofia took into the foreboding cave, the moonlight was mercilessly snatched away. The deeper she delved, the more the environment transformed into a suffocating abyss, swallowing her in its inky blackness.

“Lux Clara!” Sofia cast a basic spell.

“This light of protection, I carry it strong; no ill will befall me, nor trouble come along.” Sofia recited an additional spell of protection.

A small orb of light now hovered above, following its maker as she ventured further into the black. The walls crawled with small insect-like creatures that Sofia would rather not take the time to quantify. A fluttering of wings above she presumed to be bats. A gathering hiss upon the walls, perhaps some dreaded cockroach species? A waft of bugs moved in significant numbers upon the dank dwelling interior as a cluster of something creepy-crawly-like sought to evade the light. Sofia was glad of her well-made leather boots that ground up what she hoped to be gravel and stone beneath her heels. In truth, she thought it much more likely that she was crushing the backs of whatever shelled pests infested the walls. The sooner she located the child, the better.

The open space of the entrance quickly diminished into crook's crannies and burrow holes dug by her tormentor. The Snake.

Poynton, a man of mystery and power, he wore its insignia upon his finger encased and set in resin upon a gold signet ring. This symbol was a mark of his authority and control. He’d inflicted that power upon her brother via a gifted necklace. It sought to drain the black energy from Thomas, a blackness Sofia had infected her little brother with for so long herself.

She had to find George quickly. Goodness knows what this creature had in store for her.

As Sofia approached the end of the narrow pathway, she picked up a rancid smell, like a pile of rotten fruit left in the sun for far too long. Such a putrid stench forced our lady to cover her nose and mouth; she held her breath, not wishing to endure the tang of death upon her taste buds longer than necessary. Her heroic stride was once more broken as the closer she got to the bowels of this creature's lair, the more awful the scent of decay.

One final twist in the stone pathways and the source of the dreadful odor became apparent. Face down in a puddle of rot and stagnant water lies the blotted corpse of a man, half eaten by rats, swarming with maggots.

Sofia could move no further. Her chin wobbled, and her nostrils flared as tears sought to flood the piercing blue of her Iris, diluting them into a washed-out grey.

“T…Thomas?” Sofia whimpered.

Finding her nerve, she warily approached. Could it be? This is how her flesh and blood had met his end? Alone in the dark at the tooth and fang of this accursed serpent.

A rumble from above dislodged a light dusting of grainy rock powder and stone chipping from overhead. The noise subsided soon after as the creature roamed the endless caverns and burrows about the hollowed-out rock face. It wasn’t safe here; each micro-movement risked the collapse of the fragile structure. It mattered not to this creature, but how would Sofia get back out if the only known entrance was somehow blocked? There was no spell she could conjure that would hold up the roof of this place in the event of a seismic movement of its foundation.

Trapped, trembling, and her conjured lamp light dying, Sofia bravely placed a hand on the back of the dead body before her. She held her breath and steadied her nerve for what she was about to witness. It was now or never,

One forceful tug forced a slosh of rancid puddle water as the face of the corpse was revealed. Sofia bit her bottom lip and fought the need to close her eyes as the features of a man much older than Thomas were evident, even though much time had passed to permit such rot. A whisp of bright blonde hair was further evidence that, thankfully, this poor soul lacked the dark locks and chiseled features of the Blancheford bloodline. Whomever this person was, he most definitely was not Thomas. 

A sparkle of something gold caught the magical lamplight. Removing her priced leather gloves, Sofia winced as her fingertip grazed the corpse's flesh as curiosity got the better of her. A delicate chain hung around this man's neck, glittering and gilded. He was a man of means: silk garments, leather boots, and jewellery made from something as precious as gold. Sofia allowed the fancy chain to slip over her fingertips. A small crucifix remained attached and further glistened in the lamplight. The Pagan Witch within couldn't help but scoff.

“What good did this do you? This trinket of deceit only seeks to control the masses, not offer salvation, fool.” Sofia lowered the man back into the puddle steadily so as not to further tarnish herself in its stench.

A scream sounded out from beyond the boundary of this section of the cavern.

“George!” Sofia called out.

She stood quickly, dashing towards the sound of the shrill, terrified cry.

Back over at the trashed campsite. Nell awoke with a start.

“George?... Rox?”  Those were her first words and concern. Polly and Moggerhanger were quick to steady an uneasy Nell as her concussion lingered. The renegade winced as a sharp sting suddenly assaulted the back of her head; she reached around and investigated the source of the pain; she found a swollen lump and dried blood matting her hair.

“Where are the girls!” Nell struggled to get out of Moggerhanger's and Polly’s hold as Billy was seemingly gone, leaving her with only her limited human strength.

“If you settle down, we can explain!” Moggerhanger furthered her grip on a panicking Nell

“Wilmot! She can't be trusted. I shouldn’t have let down my guard. I wasn’t thinking with my head; I was thinking with my…” Nell’s voice trailed off.

“Lady Wilmot has taken off with Roxy; they’ve gone after George, Nell.” Rasselas interrupted.

“What!” Nell exclaimed, what the bloody hell’s going on!” Nell's voice lifted an Octave. She glared at the innocent tree that had unwittingly been the source of her concussive state.

“You better sit back down.” Rasselas ushered Nell to relax

“No, sod that! Which way did they go? I'm going after 'em!” Nell exclaimed.

Back in the demon’s lair.

Sofia followed George's cries. She hurried each step as the spell cast to give her some light quickly faded. She’d all but given up hope when she spotted a mess of red hair spouting from what looked like a chrysalis of sorts. While absent of its domain, this creature seemed skilled in taking hosts and wrapping them in a secreted resin that was not too difficult to break down from the outside; the child seemed sedated almost by the toxins being expelled from the viscous gloop she was partially submerged in.

Quick-footed, Sofia set forth and began dismantling the gunky, brittle substance. Its texture was firm but broke up in the witch's hands like crusted fondant on a stale cake. Dazed and confused, the child saw only a silhouette coming to her aid.

“Nell?” George presumed

“I'm afraid not, child. But I will see that you are returned to…

Sofia stopped mid-sentence as a familiar voice called out to her across the Cavern.

“Sofia?” A strained male voice sounded out.

“Thomas?” Searching in the half-light, Sofia caught a glimpse of what she had feared since entering this horrid place. She’d felt Thomas. The two were rarely apart as Children, right through being teens and then adulthood. Thomas had volunteered himself as a vessel for Sofia’s dark energy. When it overflowed and all but claimed her soul, Thomas was on hand to serve as a basin for whatever extra blackness flooded Sofia’s mecurial heart. Neither realising what effect it might have on Thomas as he matured.  That sort of self-sacrifice forged an unbreakable bond and connection. This was no trick…the hand reaching outwards trapped in the same goop as poor George was that of her beloved Thomas. But how would she save them both?

“Sofia. Is that really you?” Thomas managed, his voice small and weak.

Sofia hurried to release Thomas, the urgency of the situation weighing heavily on her. Yet, George's voice pierced through the chaos, pleading for her assistance also. Sofia's heart sank. She couldn't save them both. The thunderous boom from above announced the creature's relentless pursuit. It was aware of her presence, and it was closing in.

“Sofia, quickly. It will return. It always returns. Get me out of here.” Thomas whimpered.

“Nell?” George sobbed once more.

Sofia turned, her gaze darting between that of her brother then the helpless George. That rumble again sounded out, closer now.

“Please. Nell. Where are you?” George began to sob.

Sofia took a step back from Thomas. Her focus remaining on the terrified child.

“Forgive me,” Sofia whispered across the way towards Thomas. She quickly turned on her heels, headed for George, and restarted from where she had left off, freeing her from the makeshift prison.

“Sofia!” Thomas called once more.

“I can get you both out, but it must be her first. Would you really have me save our wretched souls over that of a childs! Is that truly what has become of us both!” Sofia's voice broke.

Thomas simply shook his head, watching through tired confused eyes as Sofia rightly saved the little one before him.

Success, Sofia afforded herself a smile as the final piece of organic casing allowed her to pull George free. George instinctively coiled herself around Sofia. Burying her face in the crook of her neck and crying once more.

“Hush, now. Let's get you out of here.”

Sofia stopped before Thomas, a panicked expression staining his features,

“I am coming back for you!” She insisted.

“It will be too late!”  He whined.

“Nonsense, I will return for you!” Sofia was forceful with her words, and Thomas could only nod.

 Sofia retraced her steps and moved quickly to where Roxy waited anxiously at the cave entrance, but they were to be careful of the creature's return.  Most serpents are ambush hunters. Many leap from burrow entrances, from shallow water, log, or tree trunk retreats to capture passing prey. Some burrow dwellers lurk behind trapdoors, but others, like this creature, will also forage on the surface near its domain at night. Sofia prayed they would avoid confrontation.

George slipped in and out of consciousness, making the child feel like a dead weight in the moments she passed out. As she came to, she gripped Sofia, which made the child much easier to carry.

“Lady Wilmot.” George sobbed, burying her head once more into a soft gathering of dark curls.

“It's ok; I will have you out of here soon enough. Hold tight and repeat after me… This light of protection, I carry it strong; no ill will befall me, nor trouble come along.”

George repeated Sofia's words immediately.

“Is it a spell?” George asked.

“Of course. You're a budding little witch, are you not.”

Sofia was pleased to feel George nod into the crook of her neck. Small hands clung to her shoulders, and little legs wrapped around her waist. She repeated the spell of protection over and over. Sofia abruptly stopped as they entered the cavern where the dead nobleman lay.

“George, I need you to keep your eyes tightly closed and do not open them until I say.”

“Yes, me lady.” George obeyed.

“I will say, you are much easier to deal with than thy sisters.” Sofia once more afforded herself a smile; the child was so compliant.

As the exit drew nearer, Sofia could see the moonlight's glow ahead, urging her steps to quicken and her determination to strengthen. The child's safety was paramount, and the realization of their pursuer's proximity only fuelled her urgency.

Lady Wilmot winced as George screamed right by her earhole. The child clung much tighter, almost squeezing the air from the Wiccan's lungs as the creature rounded the corner and began its chase.

“George!” Roxy called from the entry; the two escapees were now coming into view.

An earth-shattering crash and a cloud of dust signaled the creature's arrival. The gap between the fleeing Wiccan and Nell’s youngest sibling closed rapidly, the creature's rage palpable as Sofia stood her ground. Its fetid breath and decaying flesh filled the air, a stark reminder of their vulnerability. Yet, they managed to cross the threshold, their escape a narrow victory.

Sofia dropped George; she ran to Roxy, who scooped her up happily. Sofia turned, the creature still bearing down on them.

“Lady Wilmot! Do something.!” Roxy screamed.

Sofia stepped forward. “Thomas!” She yelled.

There was no way she would get back to him now; each second she delayed, this foul beast encroached further on the safety of not only herself but also the young girls.

“Sofia!” Roxy hollered again.

Sofia grits her teeth, hoping she will not come to regret her next move for all her days.

“Dispersio Exidium!” Sofia threw up her hands to the fragile ridge of the cave entrance.

The creature came to a screeching halt, understanding the spell's meaning. It could only let out a mighty hiss as the roof gave way, stopping its imminent attack but only temporarily trapping it. It and Thomas…

The girls stood panting. George clung to Roxy, and the teenager breathed a sigh of relief at having her little sister back.

“Thomas was down there?” Roxy pressed Sofia for an answer.

“It matters not.” Sofia sniffled, ushering the girls towards the horse.

“We have to get away from here; that won't slow the serpent for long.” Sofia's voice wobbled.

“Wait! You saved George…not Thomas?”

“She did!” George interrupted.

“IT MATTERS NOT!” Sofia hollered, causing both girls to jump in fright.

“Please, just get on the horse; we must depart.” Sofia implored, her voice finding a much softer and more persuasive tone.

At that, the three sprinted away. George glanced at Sofia as she rode in front. Roxy took up her previous position behind the Witch. Her arms loosely wrapped around her waist once more, though their pace was not what it had been earlier. George noted a lone tear that rolled down Lady Wilmot's cheek; she squeezed her saviour tight. Sofia was surprised to feel her soul take comfort in the sudden sympathy offered by the small child. She was discreet as she returned the embrace in kind.

Once clear of that frightful place, Sofia brought the horse to a slow trot; she’d found a clearing and was careful as she lowered George from the great height of her steed. Roxy slipped down of her own will, therefore allowing Sofia to dismount. The wiccan got to work quickly, setting up a makeshift camp. Roxy gathered firewood and stepped back as Sofia cast a quick spell that instantly brought heat to the kindling. The flames roared immediately, and the girls settled down to warm up.

“Be light soon.” Roxy broke the awkward silence as Sofia stared off into the distance.

“Thank you for saving George….do you want to talk about Thomas?” Roxy offered.

Sofia only raised a hand to silence the teenager, Standing now that she had warmed herself enough to take her leave.

“You will be safe now. I will make sure Miss Jackson can locate you.”

“Lumos Maxima!” Sofia cast an orb of light into the air, like a flare identifying the location of a ship drifting at night.

“Where are you going?” Roxy stood from the campfire as Sofia headed towards the horse.

“I can’t stay here,” Sofia muttered.

“Why not!” Roxy protested.

“Lady Wilmot, please don’t leave. Stay with us. We’ll be your family now.”  George pleaded.

Roxy frowned at the thought but did not throw her usual insults at the Wiccan.

“Sofia, Nells soft on ya. I can tell. I ain’t never seen her look at someone like the way she looks at you. I won't pretend I'm happy about it, but all I know is you saved one of mine over one of yours; I'd say that’s making progress.” Roxy shrugged.

Sofia only cast her eyes back in the direction of the cave and her failure to extract Thomas.

“Please understand, I want to be alone.” Sofia could not stop tears from falling anew.

“Nell will come after ya. She won't let you go easily; she's stubborn. You should know that by now.”

“Oh, I do.” Sofia closed her eyes. She could not allow her feelings for the renegade to dislodge her grief for her brother. It was too soon.

“Maybe Thomas is still alive? Nell…she’s magic, Miss. Just like you are, surely the two of you can save him!” George innocently advocated.

“And you would think that right for her to risk her life like that? Because I do not want her to. That is why I must take my leave. All I bring is upset to whatever I try to… love.” Sofia headed once more for her horse.

“What do I tell Nell.” Roxy sighed; it was pointless asking the emotional Sofia to stay.

“Tell her I….” Sofia paused.

Roxy raised a brow,

Sofia shook her head, frustrated at herself for not being able to find the perfect words. Instead, she reached into her pocket, retrieving her leather gloves.

“Give her these… so she might remember my touch.” Sofia softly whispered.

Roxy blushed a shade close to crimson as she took the fine accessories from Sofia's grasp,

“Right, err. Will do,” Roxy cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Take care of each other. There is no closer bond than that of siblings.” Sofia sadly smiled.

At that, with a tug on her stead’s mane, she’d tuned away and was setting off into a gallop.

Roxy looked up at the fading orb that shone bright in the sky above them; she hoped Nell had seen its light from afar,

Indeed, Nell had spotted the location spell. The thought that only one person she knew could have cast it unexpectedly warmed her heart. Sofia was alive; she hoped much the same for her sisters. Without a mount, Nell had to travel by foot. The light in the sky above faded, but it was still enough to get her to her family. Through the cluster of brambles and withered branches, the amber glow of a campfire cast joyful shadows across the tree line. In the midst of the silent forest, Georges’ annoying chattering sounded like sweet music to the renegade's ears as she burst through the bushes and sharp thorns.

“Nelly!” Roxy happily cheered. Wrapping herself around her sister, George was not far behind as both sisters nearly forced the highwaywoman to the ground, such as their eagerness to embrace her.

“How many times…don’t call me Nelly.”

“Where’s Sofia?” Nell failed to keep the desperation to see her witch from her tone.

Both sisters delayed, making Nell feel great anxiety.

“Where is she? Tell me she's in one piece, for Christ's sake; what's happened?”

“She saved George instead of Thomas and got her out by herself. She couldn't save them both, and she chose George! I was wrong about her, Nell.” Roxy babbled

“Wait, what? Slow down!” Nell shook her head in confusion.

“She said to give you these.” Roxy handed over Sofia's gloves.

“So, you don’t forget her…touch.” Roxy blushed; she cleared her throat as she evaded Nell's eyes.

“You gotta go fetch her, Nell!” George encouraged.

“No!” She said not to go after her!” Roxy repeated.

“Which way did she go?” Nell demanded as she softly caressed the leather in her hands

“You thick in the head? That tree hit you hard, didn’t it? She said not to let you FOLLOW HER!” Roxy repeated.

“Since when have we ever done what Toff’s told us to? Dad raised you better, Rox.” Nell smiled.

Roxy allowed a smirk to pull at the corner of her lips.

“Please…I have to find her. I …. I owe her an apology.”

“You fancy her more like. You wanna kiss her.” George giggled as she teased Nell with smoochy faces.

“Tell me where she went, Roxy. Please, im begging ya. I think i might have found something real, even though it ain't always pretty i know.” Nell's brow lifted with a glimmer of hope.

Roxy rolled her eyes as both her siblings pressured her.

“Alright! Alright! She went west, but she’s bloody fast on that horse, Nell.  You’ll not catch her, and we don’t know what path she took in these woods.

Nell peered towards the horizon. An ominous congregation of clouds gathered, whereas the rest of the night sky remained clear.

“Take it she was in a foul mood when she left.” Nell pointed off into the distance.

Roxy and George went wide-eyed as they took note of what Nell was seeing.

“Hard to hide when you come with your personal, gloomy weather system…silly cow.” Nell grinned to herself.

George leaped up and down as she realized Lady Wilmot would not evade Nell as she thought possible.

“Thinks she can tell me what to do. Ha! Awkward, bloody, stuck-up wench. I mean, who does she think she is? Lady of the bloody manor!  I'll find you; just watch Your Highness! Leave me holding a pair of bloody gloves instead of your…

Roxy and George smiled at a babbling Nell.

“What you both smiling at?” Nell blushed.

“You really are soft on her, aren’t you? She got right under your skin.” Roxy acknowledged.

“Let's just say it's about time I was the one to ask her for a dance.”  Nell winked.

George bounced up and down once more.

“How ‘s about we go catch us a stubborn ole moody Witch, Nipper!” Nell smiled broadly as she bent down to George’s height.

“Yea!” George cheered.

Chapter Text

A slothful sunrise extended the darkness in the morning sky much longer than expected for this time of year. However, Nell had no mind to berate the gloominess, for the delayed brightness meant she could perceive flashes of lightning conjured by the witch's mournful heart for longer, making it easier to track her location. Nell felt that without a horse, their progress was much too slow. George's short legs and the child's constant chattering tested Nell's patience. She was determined to reach Sofia as soon as possible.

“What you gonna say to her, Nell?” George asked for the third time.

Nell let out a long, frustrated sigh.

“I told ya already. I'll know when I see her, Nipper. Now keep moving.” Nell encouraged.

They were drawing nearer, of that Roxy was certain. The atmosphere grew colder, the rain more intense, as if the very elements were warning them to steer clear of the struggling dark sorceress. Was Thomas still alive? Ensnared in the clutches of that dreadful creature, was that a fate he deserved? Roxy was still grappling with the enigma of what she had witnessed. Sofia, the unexpected saviour, had chosen George over Thomas. She could have easily concocted a lie that George had perished, that she then had the burden of saving Thomas instead. But that wasn't the story that unfolded. Something profound had awakened within Sofia.

The witch was complex. Roxy worried about Nell getting entangled in a mass of emotion-driven tentacles that sought to drag the Wiccan herself deep down in murky waters.

“We’re getting closer,” Roxy called after Nell, whose heightened fitness permitted her to stride ahead of her siblings.

A sudden loud clap of thunder startled all three girls, but it had the greatest impact on George. The child's piercing scream filled the air, expressing her palpable fear as she sought refuge in Roxy's arms. The teenager became immobile. A flash of lightning illuminated the trees, briefly forcing Nell to shield her eyes.

“Come on, it's only the bloody weather, Kid.” Nell couldn’t keep the agitation from her tone any longer.

Roxy frowned at her older sibling as she heard her temper flaring.

“Oi! She has been through a lot, Nell. You were out cold. You didn’t see that thing in action. It had her in its mouth!” Roxy instantly regretted her statement, which forced a ghastly memory on George, who started sobbing.

Nell lowered her head and stood with her hands on her hips.

“Roxy’s right. I'm sorry, George. Come here.”

Nell crouched down and opened her arms wide, inviting the traumatized girl to approach. She was relieved to see George run toward her. She scooped the child up and offered a warm, comforting hug before placing her hands on the child's upper arms.

“How’s about I be the horse?” Nell winked.

George smiled, understanding Nell's meaning, as she turned around and offered her back to the little one—Nell feigned effort and exhaustion as she stood up with George attached, piggyback style.

“Bloody Hell, mate. Who's been eating all the pies?” Nell dragged her feet under Georges’ fake excess weight. The antics forced the scrawny child to giggle and a smile to pull at the lips of a following Roxy.

The three soldiered on; Nell felt Georges’ legs wrapped around her sides and her arms around her neck loosely. They'd move faster this way. Once Nell had Sofia safely in her grasp, she’d pay a visit to that damn creature. Nell scowled as a lashing of raindroplets set upon handsome features. Her brow was dark and heavy as she envisioned revenge on that monstrous worm. She’d slice a hole in that thing for what it put George through. She’d spill its guts for hurting the heart of Sofia and scattering the flock into the wilderness.

George's head came to rest on Nell's shoulder, right by her ear.

“I want to see Lady Wilmot.” She sniffled.

“Me too. Nipper. Me too.” Nell sighed longingly in agreement.

Amidst a self-inflicted rainstorm, a mercurial Lady Wilmot endured the elements herself.

Now on foot, Sofia kept a hand on her horse as he walked obediently by his mistress’s side. The odd snort and brey the only protest at walking in the wet weather. They had to find shelter.

A sudden snap of lightning lit up the clearing before our hero and her loyal steed, revealing just what they'd been looking for.

A cottage! Harmoniously integrated into the heart of the woods, it stands as a sanctuary amidst the towering trees and the whispering leaves. Its weathered wooden exterior mirrors the surrounding forest, seamlessly blending with the natural surroundings as if it had grown from the earth itself.

With its rich history and mysteriously absent inhabitants, this enchanting home seemed to have been pulled from a fairy tale. It was perfect.

Warily, Sofia approached.

“Hello?” She called out as she stepped closer.

Guiding her horse into the shelter of some closely knitted trees. Sofia let the animal rest so she might further investigate this house of whimsy. She walked a winding path towards the front door. Each step furthered her curiosity but heightened her guard. She could fight again if necessary; her magic was not spent, but her fallible human bones were tired and weary. She’d sooner avoid confrontation than walk right into it.

“I say, is anyone home?” She repeated a friendly greeting once more.

The hinges creaked on the pretty white gate attached to a most splendid picket fence; its bracket groaned as if this entry point had not been opened for some time. Bravely, the witch stepped forward towards the front door, taking the simple brass knocker into her chilled fingertips and tapping three times. The wind, like a distant whisper from another world, picked up, ensuring the unlatched gate was in its grasp before forcing it to slam loudly behind Sofia. It caused the Witch to startle.

After getting no response, Sofia tried the front door. By the grace of the spirits, it was unlocked!

Cottages have been part of the working-class ideal since the late sixteenth century. To the upper classes of which Sofia Blancheford was born, they were more a symbol of poverty. A cramped, harsh, rustic existence - far from desirable if one had the money for anything grander. How times have changed. On the run with not a penny in her pocket, all the disadvantages of this sort of hovel had now become, dare she think it, charming.

The cottage's interior was a delightful mix of a cabinet of curiosities and folly. The owner had adorned the mantlepiece with pewter plates, metal jugs, and original artwork, each with a unique story. The room was filled with the earthy scent of stoneware confit and earthenware pots, giving it a warm and inviting atmosphere. A carved wooden wash trough and a butter churn sat to the left, adding to the rustic charm—a cozy armchair by the fire, simple wooden furniture, quilt-covered beds to sink into.

This place was so homely...Against her will, Sofia's thoughts turned to just one person…Nell Jackson.

Sofia's mind was a battleground of conflicting emotions. She imagined herself making tea while the wiry-muscled Nell silently smoldered in the lap of that armchair. The copper hues of her red hair would glow in the flickering firelight as she watched Sofia potter about; the highwaywoman would stare broodingly as she sat in shadow, watching her dutiful wife make her breakfast. Wife? Whatever was she thinking? Her ordeal in that wretched cave had been too much and sent her towards madness. However, goosebumps littered her arms, and an immediate throb overcame her crotch at the mere fantasy of becoming Mrs. Sofia Jackson.

Was she falling in love? The Witch had been to bed with women. She’d been pleased and pleased in kind by the fairer sex, and despite great barriers and oppressions, she marvelled how her kind always found one another. A lingering stare from a maid in a hallway, a discreet caress from a seamstress. Sofia Wilmot knew the euphoria of feeling a woman move inside her. She was accustomed to the taste of her release on her lips. But love? …not once. Not until the renegade had her heart pounded just as much as her loins for any other female.

The powerful witch shook her head, hoping to untangle the overly domesticated thoughts that looped in her mind. She was not this woman, never had been. Yet, the idea of her swash-buckling renegade returning home to her through that very door filled her grief-stricken heart with a blast of light and joy. She’d left Nell behind and turned her back on her though, allowing the awful creature to bring havoc to the previously tranquil campsite. Wherever Sofia Wilmot walked, chaos followed. Nell, she thought, might never forgive her for the brief treachery.

Sofia scaled a short staircase, which was really more of a ladder. She was relieved by what she found at the summit. What could be more typical of the English country cottage than a old-fashioned attic bedroom with a sloping ceiling? The sight of a warm bed with which to settle down was most welcome. But first, she had to wash the stench of death from her body and get out of these filthy clothes. Once the fire was lit, Sofia could not wait to free herself from these rotten garments.

“Nell… look!” George pointed to a chimney poking out of the tree line. White smoke delicately billowed; whoever was home had lit a fire.

Roxy overtook a besotted-looking Nell. Something about the inviting warmth of this place had the renegade frozen to the spot.

Perhaps it was the enchantment of the forest. Nothing captivated Nell more than a leisurely walk through the woods, absorbing the beauty of the English countryside in springtime or strolling in the rain. However, as she gazed at this idyllic little house nestled discreetly in the woods, Nell's thoughts were filled with images of only one form of happiness... returning home to Sofia.

“You alright? Have you been here before or something?” Roxy threw a puzzled look at a dumbstruck Nell.

“No, it just…feels like home, can’t explain it,” Nell whispered.

“We'd better get looking to see if it's her.” Roxy's face still displayed a frown of confusion. Nell looked so in love with a place she did not know. What magic Sofia possessed. How spellbound she made Nell that she’d think to call this place home on first sight.

“It’s her. She’s inside; trust me, I know.” Nell felt Sofia from the perimeter of the cottage walls.

“I found the horse! It's her!” George yelled excitedly from around the back of the dwelling.

“Stay out here. Be dry with the horse. I'll go see what we're walking into with her.”

Nell straightened her back and fixed her hair, blowing out a nervous breath as she contemplated being face-to-face with Sofia. She needed to apologize. As nerves took hold, Nell wished she’d planned what to say as George had suggested.

“You really have fallen for her, haven’t you.” Roxy ran her eyes over a emotional Nell.

“Just check on the horse. See if it's alright. It's had a day.”  Nell patted Roxy on the back as she set towards the front door.

“She’s just as lucky to have found you too, Nelly. You're both heroes, you know.” Roxy kindly offered as she called after Nell.

“I know. Just, she's the one that went after the big wormy thing while I was away with fairies knocked out and sat on my fat arse,”

“Yeah, she has the up on ya with that one.” Roxy couldn’t help but smile.

Drying her sweating palms on her britches once more, a nervous Nell reached out and tried the door handle, success…unlocked. The robber man ducked down as she passed under the low archway. Thankfully, the ceiling lifted slightly higher as she entered the open-plan space. Nell felt the warmth of the open fire immediately. She noted the Wiccan’s boots drying right before the flames and a fresh change of clothes laid out on a simple wooden chair—an oversized gentleman's shirt and what looked like smart, tailored pants. Certainly not clothes fit for a lady. Nell’s eyes remained fixed on the iron pan of heated water and discarded washcloth scented with lavender.

“Nell, you shouldn’t be here.”

 Sofia's low husk of a voice held such tenderness in its tone whenever she called out the renegade's name. Nell turned quickly as a creaking floorboard sounded out from behind, giving away her enemy's position.

“Seems we’re somewhat fated to meet this way.” Sofia stood naked once more before an unreadable Nell. The silence from her nemesis and her personal state of undress made the lady most nervous. Nell stood as chiseled marble. Unmoving, lifeless, yet her eyes did not leave Sofia’s, no matter where the Witch moved.

They stood facing each other on opposite sides of the room, just mere feet apart but maintaining a distance.

“I wonder if you might pass me…

“You saved George.” Nell interrupted, suddenly finding her voice.

Sofia hesitated before responding. Her heart pounded as she noticed the highwaywoman's dilated pupils and heaving chest. Sofia felt the internal restraint holding Nell back was ready to snap. The seasoned Sappho was not one to miss the signs of desire in another woman's eyes.

“And quite right a choice it was.” Sofia nodded, once more reminding herself that the decision to choose George first was correct

“You saved my little sister,” Nell repeated, her voice breaking as she took the brave Sofia in.

Sofia stepped closer, too close….

“Nell, I don’t expect my actions to influence how much you trust me nor…

Sofia felt Nell's hands in her hair before feeling her lips on her own. A kiss, a first kiss that all but boiled Sofia's blood and pumped life back into her dying heart. The leash had given way, and Nell had all but thrown herself at her Witch. Quicker now, their lips parted, then rejoined instantly. A rushed, eager, wet sound filled the stale, unlived cottage air and jam-packed the space with nothing but real love. Sofia stumbled backward, taking Nell with her as she wrapped her arms around the taller girl's shoulders. Inhaling her, devouring her, tasting her. Nell’s hands pawed possessively at Sofia’s curves.

Lost in a whirlwind of pent-up need. The two intertwined women bumped and bounced off walls and furniture. Sofia heard the pewter plates crash to the floor. An assorted mass of trinkets shattered as they were knocked over, swept up in an eager gust of want.

Sofia suddenly sang in a note of girlish gasp.  Nell's mouth had suddenly left hers and trailed a blistering swathe of kisses down her throat and within the crook of her neck at pace. Sofia's head automatically tilted back to allow her working-class lover better access to her lady. There was no escape for Sofia as the back of her legs contacted with something fixed and unmoving. Nell had her pinned.

“You're so handsome,” Sofia managed between kisses as Nell aggressively lifted her onto a quaint kitchen table.

“And you're bloody lovely,” Nell growled as she pulled at her belt, quickly untucking her shirt as she sought to disrobe and climb upon a woman for the first time. Sofia's eyes darkened; she couldn’t help but aim her gaze at Nell’s crotch as she heard the satisfying sound of leather briskly slipping through fabric loops.

“Take this off this instant!” Sofia tore Nell’s shirt impatiently, tugging the renegade harshly so she fell upon her.

Topping Sofia now, the shirtless Highwaywoman let out a satisfied grunt as her bare-breasted flesh pressed against Sofia. Nell’s crotch contacted precisely with her willing lovers. The renegade's weight was well placed; the naked sorceress could only rub herself shamelessly into the rough fabric of Nell’s trousers. It was a pleasant sensation. Nell took courage from the desperate sob that escaped the prim and proper Toff’s stiff upper lip. Sofia felt familiar moisture gathering at the top of her thighs in anticipation of receiving Nell. By the gods, she’d teach this woman all she knew. It seemed the novice was getting off to a rather good start all on her own.

“Will you have me inside you?”  Nell panted, eagerly awaiting Sofia’s permission.

The Wiccan could only offer a hurried nod of acceptance, guiding Nell’s hand down between their bodies.

“Push deep, then curl your fingertips.” Sofia instructed through a breathy whisper.

Lips came together once more. Quickened, heated kisses now as the need to take Sofia overcame the previously shy Nell. But a sudden tang of salt befell her tongue as she kissed the pretty Wiccan’s face. Nell stayed her hand.

Looking down upon Sofia, gathering tears pooled in the corner of her witch’s eyes, and then a single droplet streamed over a high cheekbone. Nell, without thought, swiped a thumb lovingly across the brunette's features, gathering the tear up.

“You're not ready.” Nell surmised. Holding down a breath in an attempt to slow her raging pulse and heart rate.

“I want to, truly I do. It's just…”

“Thomas.” Nell finished Sofia's train of thought.

“I keep seeing his face. I have to know what became of him.” Sofia swallowed. Taking Nell's hand in her own and kissing the back of it repeatedly.

“I am a mess of thoughts. My mind is …taken back to seeing him in that awful place. But when I am with you, to my great shame… I forget.”

Nell looked down at their entwined bodies, her crotch still pounding and her heart racing in her chest. Sofia, she was the one. There was no doubt at all in Nell’s mind now. This was her person. She was destined to be with the Wiccan despite the circumstances. Despite everything!

“This can wait. I.., I can wait. Is that alright? Will you still want to later? After we go kill that bloody thing?”

“Yes! You idiot. I have wanted you since I first saw you.” Sofia kissed Nell softly on the lips.

Nell returned Sofia’s kiss with just as much tenderness as her lover's lips offered.”

“You're so bloody beautiful; do you even realize that?” Nell praised Sofia’s good looks.

“I need to give you my body, but I must give you all of my heart. At this moment, I fear part of it is breaking beyond repair.” Sofia sadly replied.

Nell gently cradled Sofia's strong jawline in her hand before trailing her fingertips down her chest, stopping at her heart

“Then we’ll fix it. We’ll make it good as new together.” Nell smiled.

“I'm afraid of what I might find. What will be left of him?” Sofia's tone faltered.

“I said I'd help you find him, and I will. No matter what’s happened to him. You’re not alone. Not anymore, girl.” Nell couldn't help but kiss an equally willing Sofia once more.

“Speaking of girls. Where are they?” Sofia asked between a flurry of slow kisses.

Nell paused; Sofia's plump top lip still held in teeth. Sofia pulled back to inspect her lover's expression further.

“Nell? Where are the girls?”

Nell cleared her throat; a flush of rouge covered her features and signaled a wave of guilt. She’d forgotten about them!

Sofia raised a brow.

“Err. They're outside.” Nell grimaced.

“I beg your pardon!” Sofia exclaimed.

“They're fine. It's dry out there with the…horse.” Nell shook her head at herself on hearing such a comment.

“Nell Jackson, really!” The renegade winced as Sofia gently slapped her face before demanding she get off her via a panicked shove.

“Get dressed!” Sofia ordered as she threw on an oversized shirt stolen from the upstairs closet over her naked form.  Nell tended her cheek where Sofia's playful, soft slap still stung.

“You would have us make love with them waiting outside!”

“I really don’t think the horse minds.” Nell shrugged.

Nell was pleased to see a smile tug at the corner of Sofia’s lips.

“You're not at all amusing, Nelly Jackson.” Sofia pointed a finger in the redhead's direction.

“Don’t call me that.” Nell folded her arms defensively

“I shall call you what I like, you... Animal.” Sofia, again, couldn’t help but smile as she pulled open the cottage door.

“Only for you, my dark queen,” Nell teased as she bowed, bringing a redness over Sofia's features and striking her silent but for a moment.

“Dark Queen…I think I quite like that.”

Sofia cleared her throat before addressing the girls.

“Lady Wilmot!” A little voice called out soon after, blinded by the morning sunlight. Sofia was surprised as the child ran into her arms.

“George!”  Sofia sounded so relieved as she scooped the little one up and held her tightly.

“You shouldn’t have left us. We can look after you.” George whispered into Sofia's ear.

“I know. I am sorry.” Sofia gently replied.

As Roxy stepped out of the sunlight, her eyes ran a quick, knowing scan of Sofia’s partially dressed form and flushed skin.

Sofia took note of the accusatory stare.

“She didn’t tell me you were outside,” Sofia whispered as she carried a clingy George to the armchair.

“I bet she bloody didn’t. Had a fight with a stray cat, have ya?” Roxy narrowed her eyes on a guilty-looking Nell. Her shirt was torn at the front and in tatters.

“You might wanna sort that as well.”

“Sort what? What have I done now?” Nell shrugged,

Roxy glanced at the renegade's crotch. Forcing Nell to peer downwards.

“Shit!” Nell quickly fastened the buttons back up on her pants.

"I see that you two have cleared the air as well as the kitchen table," Roxy remarked, pursing her lips as she took note of the disheveled tablecloth and doilies and the scattered cutlery strewn across the floor.

“Alright, leave it out. You’ve become a right ole mum, ain't ya!” Nell groaned.

“At least whatever the two of you made a start on brought the sun out in her.” Roxy looked towards the glorious beams of sunlight now slicing through the thick treeline.

“Whose house is this, anyway.” George started to look about the sitting room.

Sofia picked up a small porcelain statue of Christ strewn about similar religious artifacts.

“I fear I have met the owner of this place. He did not fare as well as George and me in escaping that creature's domain.” Sofia's mind flashed with the memory of the corpse face down in the puddle, a simple gold crucifix around his neck.

“He must have been a preacher of sorts. This place is no doubt a retreat from the hustle and bustle of London. He was most certainly a man of means.”   

“That right?” Nell looked about the humble surroundings.

“Hiding it for some reason. Trust me; I know the aristocracy when I see it.” Sofia pointed the statue of Christ at Nell like the tip of a loaded musket.

“What was he doing in that things nest?” Nell pondered, unable to look away from the tip of Sofia’s makeshift firearm. She was so unpredictable. Nell felt a heat rise in her nether regions once more. It was a look Sofia noticed, forgetting herself as she brandished the small statue as weaponry.

Roxy glanced between the two lust-struck women.

“Oi! Snap out of it. The two of you best not start shagging while George is here,”

“What’s shagging?” George quickly replied from the top of the stairs.

“Bloody hell. She hears everything.” Roxy blushed profusely.

“Now you can explain that one to her.” Nell shook her head in disbelief at Roxy.

Sofia cleared her throat to distract the squabbling sisters.

“Look. I don’t know why that man was down there. But something was off about it.” Sofia added.

“I'm so tired.” George suddenly yawned.

“As are we all.” Sofia glanced about the cottage.

Up in the small bedroom nook. The quite right decision to not be apart had been made. Roxy would take up the smaller cot, while George insisted on staying with her hero, Lady Wilmot in the larger bed. That left Nell perched on the end, not trusting herself to remain platonic if she lay next to Sofia.

Sofia sat up. Looking Nell right in the eyes as she patted the sheet by her side.

“I think that's a bad idea.” Nell’s eyes lingered for a moment on Sofia's breasts.

“Really? With thy sister by my side? I think you will contain yourself admirably. Now, get in this bed, Woman! I know you're tired. I will not have you sleep on the street once again instead of being by my side as you should be.” Sofia’s tone was stern. She patted the bed once more.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Nell mocked.

“I thought I was your dark queen.” Sofia half smiled.

Sofia enjoyed the sensation of Nell's athletic frame pressing up into her back as she slipped in the sheets behind her; Nell played big spoon for her wise Wiccan as George lay strewn out like a starfish on the Witch's other side.

“She always sleeps like that, a bloody nightmare to share a bed with.”  Nell tutted.

"At least she's sleeping after what she went through, and we have an excuse to get much closer," Sofia teased, reaching back and grabbing a loose handful of Nell's freed mass of curls. The sorceress closed her eyes gently as Nell's lips planted a soft peck on the nape of her neck. It was a pleasant sensation that forced the Wiccan's nipples to harden.

“Do that again,” Sofia demanded. Nell complied.

The witch’s rump rocked unwittingly against Nell's crotch as she remained mounted to her. Sofia shuffled onto her back, staring up at Nell now as the renegade's eyes were ablaze with want again. Kissing tenderly, Sofia's fingertips slipped into Nell's shirt, seeking out contact with her flesh but grazing her nipple instead. Nell let out a gasp; she was ready to go for Sofia once more.

“Perhaps you were correct; this wasn’t the best idea.” Sofia's graveled whisper filled the renegade's ear as she bent down to kiss Sofia.

“We can't do this here. You make me forget where I am.” Nell struggled to contain her wants.

“I am a fool to have you wait.” Sofia pulled Nell upon her, allowing only the softest of kisses, nothing more.

Right on cue, George sat bolt up screaming…a nightmare. Roxy leaped up, brandishing a candlestick. Both young girls were still so on edge.

“Hush, it's ok. You're safe now.” Sofia instantly offered comfort to the child by her side.

“Look, Nell is here too.” Sofia gestured to Nell, who was lying behind Sofia.

“But I want you.” George cried.

“Alright. Now you come here. Lay on me.” Sofia offered her bust to George.

“What if it comes back?” George sniffled as she settled into Sofia’s warmth.

“Then the infamous Nell Jackson and I will send it back to the cesspit from which it came. I am sure that Nell and my powers combined can defeat anything.” Sofia reassured.

“Now, sleep,” Sofia gently smiled at George. Roxy settled back down into her bed, still clutching the candlestick.

Nell watched on as Sofia expertly calmed George. Aware she was being watched, Sofia thought to explain.

“She desperately needs female energy. She has spent far too much time around men in pubs, and you're such a… well,  a ruffian Tomboy.”

“And you’re quite the governess, ain't ya. She’s got Roxy, but she’s going through her teens, and little nipper here always wants attention, always seeking the bloody limelight.” Nell rolled her eyes.

"Thomas was the same at this age. Our mother died not long after having him. I was very much a maternal figure to him in his early years. I brought him calm like this until everything changed, and these powers took hold of me. Then, all I brought him was darkness and fear."

“It’s not your fault Thomas turned out a murderer.”

“Yes, it is. He took on portions of this dark power rather than it overcome me. But a Wiccans power is not meant for Men; it's something only a woman can truly harness and control. I didn't realize how powerful I was. I poisoned the heart and mind of my own brother. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and Men are weak, fragile creatures. I should have known better, but I was so young. I may have ruined him.”

“Not on purpose, and Thomas did what he did because he loved his big sister; I promise we’ll find him, no matter what.” Nell held Sofia close from behind, trying not to disturb George in the process.

“Why do I feel so safe in your arms?” Sofia turned. Offering a quick peck on Nell’s cheek

Nell held Sofia tighter.

“I do need to go watch the front door, though.”  Nell sadly sighed.

“No, you need to sleep.”  Sofia protested in a whisper.

“I ain't getting much sleep lay next to you, am I.” Nell quirked a brow at the aroused Sofia.

Nell slipped out of the sheets, much to Sofia’s condemning scowl at being disobeyed.

“Look, I'll stand guard; if some big bad ugly comes to the door, I'll come get you to defend me. Since last time I got myself knocked out. Clearly, I can't be trusted; I'll probably slip and bang me noggin. Or trip over a well-placed rug and end up seeing tweety birds arse up in the air.”

“Stop it,” Sofia suppressed a hearty chuckle as Nell backed up towards the door,

“Stay with George. I'll be alright; I was never gonna die in bed anyway.”

“I'd prefer you not die at all.” Sofia bluntly responded.

“Sleep. Look after her if she wakes up again,”

As the sun lowered in the sky, the day sleepers continued to slumber. All except Sofia. She’d awoken abruptly. The events in that damn cave haunted her dreams also. She looked across at George; she stretched out in her starfish pose again.

Sofia kept glancing at the ceiling and the door, then back to the ceiling in a repetitive loop. She listened for Nell, but besides the occasional floorboard creak, Nell did a good job of being stealthy. Sofia let out a long sigh. She wanted Nell up here, not down there on duty.

“For Christ's sake, just go.” A muffled voice spoke into a mouthful of pillow.

Sofia sat up. Glancing down at Roxy’s form, the young girl had been faking slumber.

“Excuse me?” Sofia whispered, only to find Roxy standing and gesturing to take Sofia's place in the bed.

“Go downstairs.”

“I … mustn’t. My mind is… We're waiting until …”

“Until what? One of you gets killed by that thing. Life is short, Lady Wilmot. Nells here right now, and she cares for ya, I can tell. Sometimes, you just need to shut that mind off of yours.”

Sofia glanced to the top of the stairs once more.

“See, you’ve been doing that all the time she's been down there. Tossing and turning, you keep waking me up.”

“My apologies i…”

“Look. Don’t apologize; just go and give her one!” Roxy huffed.

Sofia’s eyes widened.

“What, don’t you know what that means? Go and shag her bloody brains out!  Just don’t let me hear ya. Make sure you're covered up when I come down as well. My brain is already full of nightmares. I don’t need Nell's arse replacing that worm in my night terrors.” Roxy passed a stunned Sofia her blanket.

“I wish I'd let Rasselas have a go on me before all this happened.” Roxy sadly puffed out a breath.

“Might I suggest you don’t share that particular revelation with your overprotective sister?” Sofia's cheeks redden.

“What are you waiting for?” Roxy gestured to the door as Sofia slipped out of the bed.

“Go get her. She bloody well needs a good shag, I think. Grumpy bastard most days. Go give her a seeing to, and I'll cover my ears.”

As Sofia descended the stairs, the scent of lavender filled the air. She could tell that another log had been thrown on the fire, making the atmosphere glow with an orange roar. Sofia's curiosity made her steps light and birdlike as she wondered what Nell was up to. When she reached the final step, Sofia continued with stealthy silence, almost ghost-like in her movements.

Sofia’s care and covert approach were very much worth the effort.

From the shadows, she watched …

Nell stood nude, both feet firmly placed in a wash trough. A small bath not more than the size of a large bucket.  She’d taken the time to heat the water as Sofia had done early. The Witch closed her eyes briefly as the sound of the water running off Nell's fit frame dripped melodically back into the trough, like some sort of erotic water feature. Her gaze quickly returned to her newfound lover with haste. The washcloth running over Nell’s athletic body was not something the Lady wished to miss a moment more of.  

Nell’s body was not like Sofia’s, not at all. The Renegade was clearly a girl made for the outdoors. Her thighs were firm and worked; her stomach bore not one ounce of fat, allowing each muscle segment to flex on command as Nell twisted and turned as she bathed herself. Indeed, Nell Jackson had the most sporting of physiques. Sofia had felt the quality and firmness of that feminine muscle as she gripped the renegade's bicep during their earlier dalliance. Sofia felt an ache grow more agitated inside herself. A deep pounding throb that desperately needed addressing by the renegade’s penetration alone.

Sofia's eyes remained fixed now on the renegade's privates. A thicket of red hair sat nestled between those worked thighs. The Wiccan had hoped the copper tones that littered the highway woman's wild mane matched down below; Sofia Wilmot did not find herself languishing in disappointment. An absentminded lick of her top lip was quickly followed by soft biting of the bottom. Soon, she would have a taste of Nell Jackson.

Despite her hard muscles and athletic icing. The silhouette of Nell's body very much had that female cut and shape to it. A slender sloping dip of the hip, A narrow waist, and shapely pert breasts, and what a backside. Sofia prayed to whatever spirit of the light or the dark realm that Nell would turn around. She’d surveyed the girl's generous rump on a quite regular schedule throughout their days together; to see it in the flesh was something that caused Sofia's throat to dry out in anticipation.

Sofia’s thirst caused the wiccan to cough gently, enough to alert her arrival to an otherwise oblivious Nell.

“Wilmot!” She breathed, Covering her privates with the washcloth instinctively due to the surprise.

“Perhaps it is perfectly reasonable that the tables are now turned in my favor, that it is you that finds yourself naked before me. I think one calls that chance.”

Sofia slipped from the shadows, half-naked and wearing only the gentleman's white shirt. Its length just barely covered the top of her thighs.

Nell relaxed, removing the washcloth from her privates and allowing Sofia to see everything. The wiccan eyes grew dark. As she patrolled the wash trough permitter. She snatched the cloth from Nell’s loose grip.

“You're to endure inspection, Soldier. Stand to attention.” Sofia teased through the most serious of expressions.

“Sir! Yes, Sir!” Nell stood straight, saluting Sofia before placing her hands behind her back with an iron spine.

Sofia carefully inspected Nell up close, noticing the scars and knicks on her body, evidence of her time serving on the front lines.

Sofia reached out, fingertips gently caressing a particularly deep-looking Knick and scar.

“Jacobite uprising of 1699, Miss.”

“Sir!” Sofia corrected.

“Sorry, Sir!” Playing along, Nell stood straighter under Sofia’s firm tone.

“What happened?” Sofia asked, kindness knitting through the chord of her voice.

“I was stabbed close quartets with a dagger. The mission was successful though, sir. I got my comrade to safety as he was taking heavy musket fire.”

Sofia's finger moved across Nell's firm stomach, inching up just below her breast. Even as a civilian, Sofia recognized a bullet hole instantly.

“And this?” Sofia kept her voice low.

Nell stalled, keeping quiet and unwilling to explain. Her silence forced Sofia to demand a response.

“I was shot, Sir, when I was fifteen. On the Blancheford estate.”

Sofia's gaze automatically shifted to Nell's, only to find the good soldier facing forward with eyes fixed ahead.

“Lord Blancheford senior himself with a hunting rifle.”

“I am sorry,” Sofia replied, shame tinting her cheeks in rouge. Her family were ruthless, she was ruthless.

“Don’t be. I got away with two chickens and a sack full of eggs. Fed my family for over a week.”

“Thief.” Sofia accused.

“Imperialist.” Nell quickly countered, her eyes still facing forward.

Silence followed.

“Well, might I say, I am quite pleased to learn that Lord Blancheford was a poor shot,” Sofia said as she cleared her throat, still caressing the scar beneath Nell's breasts.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I'm thinking about running off with his only daughter.”

Sofia's fingertips paused; the Wiccan lowered her head to hide a smirk that pulled at the corner of her lips.

“I've heard she’s rather hard work.” Sofia continued her inspection.

“Yeah, proper bad girl. Pretty though. Looks lovely naked. Likes it rough.”

Even if it broke character, Sofia no longer attempted to hide her growing grin.

“You’re a rogue.”

“And you're in a world of trouble when I get out of this bloody tub,” Nell countered again.

Sofia fell silent. Nell remained at attention as her Lady had not yet permitted her to stand down. Sofia was quietly impressed by the discipline that the usually rebellious Nell displayed.

“How long did you serve?” Sofia asked.

“Four years, Sir. 35^th Royal Sussex Regiment, infantry. I defended this country without question until they discovered I was  …just a woman.”

“My God. You passed for that long?” Sofia marveled.

“Yes, Sir,” Nell confirmed.

Sofia paused once more. There was much she didn't know about Nell. What a life she’d had at just Twenty-Two.

“Turn around, Soldier.” Sofia gruffly whispered.

“Yes, Sir,” Nell responded. The water sloshed as submerged feet turned to face the other way; her back now turned to Sofia.

Sofia, for once, was struck silent. Nothing had entirely prepared her for the sight before her. Nell’s arse, quite simply, was spectacular. Large and firm. Worked and jutting out proudly. It was quite the cut of meat. Sofia’s continued silence spoke volumes. Nell was not a stranger to comments about her fine backside before today.

“Splendid.” Sofia managed. 

Nell heard the familiar sound of a washcloth being rung out in Sofia's hands.

“Something tells me I'm about to have the cleanest arse in all of London.”

“Or the reddest,” Sofia growled, snapping the washcloth quickly across Nell's cheeks. They jiggled magnificently, much to the lady's pleasure.

Nell still stood at attention, but her labored breathing indicated she had rather enjoyed that.

Sofia circled the tub once last time, taking in every inch of her renegade,

“You're marvelous. Magnificent. Quite the beauty.” Sofia praised

“Thank you, Sir.” Nell saluted one last time.

“You may stand down, soldier.” Sofia held onto that last word with heart.

Stepping out of the tub, Nell was barely steady on both feet before Sofia pulled her into a kiss.

“I thought we were waiting. Until you're ready?”

“I am at a loss without knowing what became of Thomas. Yet, I would be further grief-stricken to meet my end facing that creature once more, having never consummated this union.” Sofia breathed, her lips back on Nells again.

“You sure?” Nell gasped between heated kisses.

“Yes,” Sofia replied, peeling off her shirt over her head.

“I think this somewhat overdue, Miss Jackson.”

“Yes, Sir.” Nell smiled, pushing her forehead into Sofia’s.

“I will not go to my grave having never tasted you.” Sofia shoved Nell backward; the renegade landed in the lap of the armchair with a huff.”

Chapter Text

Lust struck; Nell found herself spellbound by her witch.

She dare not utter a word as Sofia approached.

It was absurd to think she might marshal any level of control over the much more practiced aristocrat, especially when Nell had such little romantic experience herself. In stark contrast, Sofia knew the warmth and closeness of the female form all too well. The lady of the house had taken confession of another woman's dark desires on many a stormy eve.

Of course, each vie for Sofia’s affections was hidden in secrecy, invariably whispered into their mistress's ear when passing far too close in a corridor, or perhaps a lovelorn note mixed in discreetly with her ladyship’s afternoon tea. The Wiccan had learned this secret language well. She was fluent in subterfuge and well-practiced in the art of both con and misdirection.

Sofia would find herself incurably ignited by dark thought when engaging in flirtatious banter, seeking to escort said admirer discreetly to the privacy of her bedchamber without detection…or so she thought.

 Oh, but for the prying eyes of a snooping footman. Even Lord Blancheford himself had stumbled across his only daughters…. indiscretions.

“You’re ill, child! These depraved acts of indecency and repugnant appetites, you will end such craven turns this night!”

Rarely did Sofia bother to face her father’s harsh rebuke. Each step away simply held that famed haughty swagger while a young Thomas remained cowering in the half-light, his brave sister taking up verbal arms with their overbearing father more and more.

“I will not! You wish for me to stay married to a man old enough to be my grandfather, then you shall overlook such …craven turns. That somewhat compliant kitchen girl will stay a member of this household staff until I say she is no longer required! And you father, you shall keep cashing the cheques on your daughter’s virtue as I am forced to share a bed with that pig every night. Trade for trade is it not.”

“You immerse yourself in such devilry. It did your mother no good!”

“Yet the Devil listens, does not judge nor seek to diminish who I am, nor whom she was I don’t doubt.”

“I fear for you, child. Her witchery haunts you.”

“This conversation is at its end. Tell your footman the next time he bursts into my chambers, I shall shoot him dead where he stands.”  

- Lady Wilmot was dammed if she not be anything but defiantly homosexual.

Hovering ever closer, Nell gripped the sides of the armchair defensively as a potent shot of arousal flavoured her posture. A grand fanfare of snaps and pops from the fireplace offered fair warning, before the flames swiftly burst into life anew.

Sofia kept her eyes on her renegade as the firepit acted out Nell’s inner turmoil to perfection. Something sizzled and screamed from within the flames. Sofia cast a glance in the direction of the burner and watched as a white-hot piece of wood twisted and writhed into a different shape entirely, offering itself to the fierce heat. It contorted and thrashed within the fire, baring its red-hot inners for all to see. The fire’s willing victim finally reached its climax with a loud popping sound, exploding satisfyingly into ash.

The ferocity of the flames offered a glimmer of a beast hidden within Sofia Wilmot.  The sudden, mighty roar from the fire cast the most imposing shadow of the passionate sapphic upon the stone walls. The powerful Witch’s inner dark shade was now painted wraith-like upon the cladding, unapologetic and indignant as always. This lady still refused to be anything less than proud and unrepentant whenever making a woman's body her own.

“You might have need of this.” The Wiccan tossed a small cushion in Nell’s direction.

Always a good catch, Nell's brows knitted together in confusion as she took possession of the soft silk plush.

“I promised thy sister she would not hear us.” Sofia raised a brow, her eyes gesturing to the cushion that might muffle Nell’s pleasure.

“Confident, ain't ya.” Nell spat a nervous scoff.

“Very.” Sofia simply replied, wiping the smile from Nell’s face.

Nell was left breathless at the sight of Sofia. Her long, dark hair flowed over one shoulder, and the pendulum-like swing of her hips as she approached rendered the highwaywoman mute. The blue of Sofia’s eyes now burned with an orange glow that matched the heat of the flames. She was stunning, dangerous, and effortlessly irresistible.

Yet, within our working-class hero…rebellion lingered.

Despite the undeniable attraction and need for Sofia’s well-practiced affections, revolt, anarchy, and uprising against the aristocracy were soaked into Nell Jackson; war against the upper class marinated her bones. Her father's voice echoed through her mind as her Lady towered over her …

“You stand taller when they come near! Never hav’em lookin' down on ya!  You look 'em right in the eye, my girl!”

Sofia observed the spark of revolution in Nell. She sought to suppress such insurgency with a simple shake of her head.

How easily Nell stood down. Ordered to remain seated with only a raised hand. It was this damn woman’s snooty bluster, the handsome jawline, and note of arrogance as she breathed a confidence that had Nell feeling quite without protest. She found herself immobilized, entranced, entirely seduced. Simply put, Nell Jackson was done for.

Coy, light on her feet, and graceful, Lady Wilmot now sat in the lap of her renegade, her gaze fixed on the fire once more.

Nell refused to focus on anything other than Sofia. Instead of staring into the flames, Nell examined the elegant curves of the woman now draped across her. The firmer, more in-tone barkeep's daughter felt the seductive breath of her temptress on her goose-pimpled skin. The familiar smell of lavender always surrounded the woman Nell Jackson once swore her enemy. Her natural garden scent was further complemented by the smoky aroma of the burning log fire.

“I admire your undying need for civil discourse. You’re brave and principled, Nell Jackson. Might I suggest you a fool to mount an insurrection against the aristocracy right now?”

Sofia brushed back the wild curls covering Nell’s features.

“That your way of saying stay put, pauper?” Nell translated as she looked up at her Lady.

“Absolutely.” Sofia teased a smile before offering a tender kiss on her lover's lips.

As the firelight illuminated the witch's features, Nell observed her dark brows lift in an expression she had never seen on any aristocrat's smug face before. Was that... surrender?

Nell held her breath as Sofia slowly came to her knees before her, those blue eyes never once leaving her prey.

Sofia's well-spoken tone and diction whispered into the firelight

“Would you allow me to please you?”  

Sofia now sank back onto her heels before a seated Nell in her would-be throne. Finally, she was looking down at one of them. However, nothing about Lady Wilmot's posture screamed submission, quite the opposite.

“I would seek amnesty, recompense, reprieve.” Only the slightest of smirks gave away the game in Sofia.

Nell didn’t believe any other ceasefire had ever quite looked like this one.

“I…I don’t know what any of those words mean. I was brought up in a pub, not a mansion.”

Nell swallowed hard as Sofia placed the softest of kisses on her knees, working her way slowly upwards, running a gentle touch of hand up a firm, muscled thigh. The Aristocrat knew her advances welcome as Nell's legs parted with more ease than the renegade first wished to permit. A sly smile pulled at the corner of a dark Sofia’s lips, the villain in her never truly standing down. Nell knew nothing of her surrender until she felt the back of her head hit the soft cushion of the armchair. Her hand now loosely rested on the sides as Sofia’s kisses advanced further up her inner thigh, thus ensuring compliance.

“Perhaps actions speak louder than words. I'd quite like to make up for being a rather bad girl.”

Silence ensued but for the heavy breathing of Nell, the creak of the armchair, and the intermittent spit of the fire.

“I would have your taste in my mouth and tang in my throat.” Sofia whispered.

Nell gasped in shock. Sofia was utterly shameless and boastfully self-assured.

“I…I  think I'd let you do anything to me.”  Nell confessed via a tremble.

Glancing up one last time, Sofia offered the most handsome of stern expressions.

She whispered within the flickering firelight.

“Such a good girl.”

Nell felt a throb and pulse at her centre as if Sofia cast a shot of her magic upon her.

“I don’t think I should like it so much when you call me that.”

Sofia couldn’t help but smile victoriously.

“Perhaps not. Alas… slips so easily from your lips.” Sofia smirked as she went down.

Fingers laced loosely in soft, dark trestles as her lady descended upon the most sensitive part of Nell Jackson. Now, the rebel Nell had no quarrel with the sudden soft suckling of lips and bold push of tongue. A steadypace and focused lapping forced a sound akin to a whimper to leave the Tomboys' lips.

“Fuckin hell, Wilmot!” Nell praised, much to Sofia’s glee. Nell felt the imprint of bare teeth smiling into her sex as Sofia knew full well how to please a woman.

Sofia really should make efforts to silence her virgin, but truly at this moment, she did not care to have such sweet music taken from her ear.

Nell fought valiantly to keep the extent of her pleasure secret, her lips tightened and sucked in. Her eyes tightly squeezed shut as she gallantly attempted to keep her joy from Sofia. But her cries continued, escaping in brief blurts of raw confession. A firm exploration inside forced a broken sob and lift of hips. Better access now, Nell felt that thick tongue replaced by a delicate fingertip at her entrance, a beckoning curl lightly dancing as Sofia sought entry. Such was Nell’s arousal, Sofia found the slow push inside far too easy. Again, the younger girl ground her teeth together.  Nell’s nostrils flared and her head tipped back to once more deny her cock-sure lover the satisfaction of claiming victory. Yet, her body betrayed her once more as a girlish sigh in praise of Sofia’s lovemaking was made apparent, all as the Wiccan pushed deeper inside.

Sofia ventured to climb up Nell so she might see the efforts of her labor on her lover's face.

Nell was getting closer. Sofia felt the familiar tightening of a muscle so eager to expel her yet draw her in desperately. Sofia took such good care of a woman. She found herself unable to stop the rapid in and out of deep sinking fingers. Quite often our Lady forgot her surroundings.

The armchair's feet dislodged, and the heavy wooden furniture slipped backward with an alarming scrape. The sound of brisk fingering action and flesh being pushed apart was all too much as Sofia moved expertly inside Nell… the renegade was gone, the cushion muting her pleasure abandoned. Sofia knew the first warning call of a woman almost undone, her inner thighs might quiver, a reddish flush across her chest and cheeks staining her flesh before being momentarily struck silent as that sensitive spot was stimulated and sparkled to life.

“Look at me.” Sofia spoke through the most demanding of whispers.

Nell arched her back as Sofia’s talents toyed with her insides unforgivingly, an agonizing pleasure. She would have her enemy beg a breathless declaration for her to end her torture, taking her to the highest of highs.

“Look at me!” Sofia repeated and was swiftly rewarded with eye contact from a woman going over the edge.

Arrogantly refusing to retreat, Sofia turned up Nell’s heat quite literally. The renegade's feet kicked out erratically, angering the fire only a few paces away. Sofia grappled with her lover from above as intense pleasure quickly incinerated Nell’s willpower and control.  A body now wrecked with a tantalizing rush of excitement.

Sofia pressed her brow against the side of Nell’s head as the younger girl sobbed beautifully in surrender. A delicate feminine hand pressed firmly over Nell’s mouth muffled her drawn-out cries of pleasure. Sofia felt Nell’s entire frame stiffen as the renegade's body teetered closer to such pleasure. Sofia's quickening pace now a full-on besiegement within Nell’s vice-like grip. The Wiccan struggled to keep her lover in the chair as she bucked and called Sofia’s name repeatedly for any witness within the woods to testify to. There was no mistaking the author of Nell’s pleasure this night. There was nothing alleged about their actions as Nell tipped over the edge.

Sofia did relish the evidence of Nell’s climax as she withdrew. She removed her hand languidly, enjoying smearing Nell’s first release all around her fingertips. It was slippery and warm against her elegant fingers. She couldn’t help but slip a taste of Nell into her mouth with a gentle suckle on her fingers.

“Oh my god, you’re bloody filth Wilmot. An utter disgrace.” Nell could but smile as she witnessed Sofia sneaking a taste of her.

As Nell’s release subsided, Sofia cradled her highway robber gently against her body as she lay upon her in the armchair. Nell struggled still to calm herself. No one else had ever made her feel this way; Sofia had mastered every twist and turn of a woman’s body - inside and out. Gradually, Nell’s self-control returned to her.

Seated once more upon her lover, Sofia felt Nell’s fingertips pressing into her under thigh. A sudden burst of energy and Sofia knew full well Nell planned on lifting her so she might return the favor.

“Nell, wait!” Sofia briskly spoke

“You think you're getting away with doing that to me?” Nell bit at Sofia's lips as the witch gave a warning once more for Nell not to stand.

A growl from Nell was followed by an impressive show of strength by lifting Sofia from her seated position and hoping to take her to the rug before the fire. Yet Sofia’s warning went unheeded, and the two tumbled to the soft fibers with far less grace than Nell intended.

Sofia cackled a laugh as Nell landed on top of her in a clumsy huff.

“What the hell?” Nell offered a puzzled expression as Sofia still beamed through her laughter. She once more delicately swiped the errant curls from Nell's bemused features.

“It is always best to wait after one has…arrived as intensely as you did. Those pesky leg muscles need a moment to recover.” 

“You’re incredible.” Nell softly spoke.

Sofia reached up, kissing Nell softly. Nell closed her eyes as Sofia’s fingers laced delicately through her hair, a tender fingertip tracing the length of Nell's nose and then to her lips.

“I do not permit you to lay with another.”  Sofia suddenly proclaimed.

“That sounds like a proposal.” Nell wiggled her brow in gest.

“Perhaps it is.” Sofia whispered; her lips close to Nell's ear guiding the renegades’ hips to align with her own.

Nell’s smile faded to puzzlement.

“Rub yourself into me. Like this.” Sofia rolled her hips, ushering Nell to follow her lead.

“Trust me, this isn’t going to take long.” Sofia allowed Nell to top her.

Rolling hips together, pressing the most intimate part as one. Nell was a quick study. The Renegades' greater fitness level and athleticism had a previous gloating Sofia desperately grappling at Nell's broad shoulders from beneath already. The pace quickened and the grind intensified. Nell winced as Sofia's nails dragged over her back, and a hard press of teeth suddenly bit into her left shoulder, encouraging Nell to pick up the pace. It felt good, too good as Sofia made noises of satisfaction not dissimilar to her moments ago.

“Harder,” Sofia demanded before falling over the edge as Nell complied, thrusting herself up against Sofia as she so desired. The wiccan tensed up before smothering her cries into the crook of Nell’s neck and shoulder from below.

The two lay breathless. Sofia felt the weight of Nell upon her and the tickle of her hair by the side of her face. She felt a sensation most peculiar and unexplored, was this…happiness?

“Gosh, whatever is it about this dreadful little cottage, It is making a wife out of me.” Sofia deflected as Nell peppered kisses across her lady's prominent jawline.

“What about when you get that big, horrible house back? All them maids and serving girls walking about making eyes at ya.

Sofia placed a hand over Nell's heart.

“I pledge myself to you, and you only. I shall receive your touch alone.”

Nell raised a brow.

“Wot, even when ya start all ya jiggery-witchery pokery?”

“Especially when I start my …jiggery-witchery-pokery.” Sofia smiled warmly; her fingers caressing Nell’s strong back.

“I just hope you use those powers for good, not as you were.” Nell warned

Sofia paused; Nell took note of the stalling fingertips that moments before ran gently through her wild hair.

“Oi, Wilmot.” Nell frowned.

“One can only seek to try.” Sofia’s dark eyes stared up at the ceiling.

“Dark magic and its unfathomably seductive art are part of me, Nell. It's not something that will ever wholly take its leave of me. It's part of who I am.” Sofia confessed.

Dismounting Sofia, Nell took up a spot by the Wiccan's side as the fire spat its embers onto the stone flooring. The odd runaway sparks singed the rug. Nell lay by Sofia's side in silence, both simply staring at the same spot on the ceiling.

“You're cross with me,” Sofia sought to read Nell's mind.

“No. I'm not. I’m thinking of times you can be…well you, times when it's ok for you to be bad,”

 Sofia raised a brow, lifting onto her side and offering a curious glance over a pondering Nell.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, there’s a bloke that comes in the pub. Got gout and a glass eye. Never pays his tab and makes advances toward Roxy. Maybe it's alright if you turn him into a weasel or a chicken.”

“Must the chicken also have a glass eye and gout?” Sofia quipped. Forcing a snigger from Nell.

“And then there’s that fella down Market Street that keeps putting the price of spirits up, he's running a right ole set up he is. Robbing bastard.”

“Are you finding targets for your mentally unstable wife to enact her dark impulses?” Sofia struggled to hide her smile.

“You keep saying that. Wife. Stop it. You shouldn’t say it.” Nell let out a sad sigh.

“Why ever not?” Sofia shrugged carelessly.

“Coz we’re both girls, ain't we.” Nell's voice lifted in a note of surprise.

“Come now, I shan't let something as irrelevant as gender thwart my plans for utterly dominating you and controlling every aspect of your life.” Sofia joked.

Nell blushed profusely as Sofia ran a soft fingertip over her features,

“The great plan, remember. Poynton’s overlords wished that I own the heart of Nell Jackson. I don’t suppose they ever imagined that might come via marriage and making love every night.”

“Bloody hell, every night?” Nell gulped.

“When I am a woman of means again, I will do as I please. Besides, I shan’t need anyone's approval nor legality once I raise a rabid army of the undead, anointing myself the dark queen of this pathetic little world.”

“Fink your funny, don’t ya. Smart arse.” Nell scoffed.

“I am merely stating my intentions, it will be a swift victory of the underworld,” Sofia shrugged once more.

“You're only half joking, ain't ya?”

“Half? Hardly.” Sofia offered Nell the sternest expression she could muster.

“Right! That’s it!”

Sofia’s eyes widened as Nell set about tickling her.

“Stop!” She gasped through a joyful chuckle.

Nell paused. Hovering above the pretty witch. Hands on either side of her lover's face. Nell’s palms sank face down and drowned in reams of thick brunette trestles. Nell remained on top, braced and sheered up by strong arms.

“My god, you’ve got a beautiful smile. Kills me.” Nell lowered herself to offer a kiss on her lady's lips.

Sofia's hands found themselves lost in Nell’s thick hair, gesturing her need by pushing the renegade's head down her body.

“Perhaps you might return the favor.” Sofia glanced downwards between their bodies. “Go down on me,” Sofia whispered into Nell's ear.

“I won't do it as good as you. How? Tell me how?” Nell swallowed.

“Like this.”

Sofia simulated what she needed via a diligent swipe of her tongue over Nell’s cheek.

“Start softly then build the more you taste my release. Listen to me, then you will know if you’re doing the right thing.”

“Yes, Miss.” Nell returned Sofia’s whisper before descending her form.

Hands running through her own dark locks and chin tilted upwards, Sofia let out a pleasure-filled sigh in anticipation of feeling Nell’s mouth upon her.

“Say that again.” Sofia demanded.

“Yes, Miss.” Nell repeated obediently.

“Gods, I'm going to make you taste all of me.” Sofia bit her lip as Nell's breath tickled her sex.

//LADY WILMOT! WHERE ARE YOU?”//

“Oh, not now!” Sofia all but sobbed as George awoke upstairs.

“See! And you wanna get married and have a house full of them things!” Nell sighed through disgruntled mutterings as she quickly pulled on a shirt.

“Best cover-up!” Nell tossed the bedsheet over them both as a thunderclap of footsteps raced towards the stairs, Roxy in hot pursuit.

“George wait!” Roxy's voice was heard in a nervous holler from above

Heads showing above the quilted blanket with toes poking out below. George ground to a halt as she all but fell over the newly made couple.

“Oi, watch where you’re treading them hooves!  Proper little clumsy cow you are.”

George peered curiously at the two cuddled-up lovers hiding under the soft cotton blanket.

“Lady Wilmot. Is…is our Nell your boyfriend now?”

“Nipper, don’t start all that!” Nell sighed, only silencing her dismay at George’s constant questions as she felt Sofia’s elbow in her ribs.

“My boyfriend?”

“Yeah…. because you’re such a lady and Nell walks like a bloke.”

Roxy spat out a laugh before quickly covering her great smile.

“Oi! You little shit!” Nell cried.

Sofia stifled a bout of laughter herself.

“If that is what you’re most comfortable with saying, then yes, Nell is my boyfriend.”

“Aw. She’s your sweetheart?” George smiled broadly

“Well, we've become much…closer.”

“Been shaggin like back alley strays you mean. This place stinks like a whore house.” Roxy angrily whispered to herself as she forced open a window.

George now stared to the point Sofia felt a reddish hue of embarrassment cover her cheeks.

“What’s that?” George pointed beyond Sofia’s head.

“Whatever are you talking about, child?”  Sofia raised a brow.

“Under the rug, look!” George pointed once more.

“Like a funny-looking symbol on the ground, Miss.”

Sofia turned, pulling back the rug she and Nell had moments early made love upon.

“Fetch me some clothes, little one.” Sofia quickly ordered.

Now fully clothed, both Nell and Sofia worked to move furniture and haul back the entire rug. Sofia gasped aloud at what was revealed.

“I have seen this before. Poynton had such a contraption in his home.”

“What is it?” Nell asked.

“If I am right. These symbols pressed in the right places open a vault. The last one led down to a secret chamber. I think I know how our preacher friend found himself in that creature’s lair, yet I fear he was no preacher.”

Sofia set about deciphering the symbols so she might open the vault until Nell stopped her.

“Wait a minute. We don’t know what’s down there.”

“Thomas is down there. You said you'd still help me retrieve him. Whatever is left of him.”

“And I will. But we ain't ready yet.”

“Where is your sprite, Nell? Your powers and mine combined will dispatch the creature once and for all.”

“I dunno where he is. Where he goes?”

“You mean to say you are not in control of him?”

“No. He just bloody shows up. I don’t know much about it until I’m scaling walls and throwing blokes three times my size about.”

Sofia stepped forward, almost at a loss for words.

“You mean to say. In all this time we were at odds. You hadn’t the slightest idea what you were doing?” Sofia's brow lifted in dismay.

“Not a sausage, my sweet. I just …sort of made it up as I went along really.”

“M…Made it up ?” Sofia gasped.

“Pretty much.” Nell shrugged at a dumbfounded Sofia.

“My god, I put such effort into dispatching you and you were…. winging it?”

“All the best heroes do, my girl.”  Nell puffed up her chest.

“Well, you must know how and why this sprite comes to you?”

“I think it’s when I’m in danger. Or other people are? Like I say, it’s all a bit hazy if I’m being honest.”

Sofia turned, heading for the door with her head in her hands.

“Sowf? You alright?”

“Please, don’t start calling me that.” Sofia hollered as she opened the front door into the brisk chill of night air.

“But I like it. Sowf!”  Nell repeated.

“I do not!” Sofia's voice became faint as she stepped away from the cottage doorway.

Gathered in the front garden, Roxy glanced at the night sky above.

“My god. We slept all day, it's night again.” She marveled.

“Nell, think hard. This sprite comes to your aid under any form of duress?”

“What’s a duress?”

Sofia let a frustrated sigh leave her lips at Nell’s limited vocabulary.

“Duress…Pressure, especially actual or threatened physical force. You know, this country gave the world a perfectly adequate language and you insist on butchering it daily.”

“Yea but let’s be honest. English. It’s all nicked from the French, ain’t it. Just don’t sound as nice.” Nell pondered.

“And I’ve heard we’re upsetting them colonies over the water. I can smell victorious revolution miles off. Telling ya, all we ever do is piss people right off, who calls a place Jamestown for fucks sake? Arrogant bastards we are.”

“Nicked from the French? Carry on, Nell Jackson. That’s the sort of talk that should have a woman like me firmly close her legs to you.” Sofia pointed an angered finger at Nell.

Nell sighed.

“Will you please focus!” Sofia snapped

“Look. I keep tellin ya, I don’t bloody know why Billy rocks up.” Nell shrugged

“Perhaps it best we find out then.”

She was returning to the cottage. The three sisters looked on curiously from the garden as Sofia opened cupboards and drawers. A gasp left the lips of all three girls as the witch reappeared on the doorstep holding a single-shot musket.

Roxy quickly grabbed George as Sofia pointed the firearm at Nell.

“What the bloody hell you playing at?” Nell stood her ground as Sofia took aim

“I should warn you, Nell. I am a much finer shot than my father.”

At that, the trigger pulled. Roxy saw a spit of carbon leave the barrel and the smell of dieseling as the weapon fired its only round then jammed.

Nell watched as an iron ball left the barrel and sped towards her. Sofia saw a flicker of something otherworldly rush towards her love.  In a flash, Nell felt her sprite hit her back and ignite her eyes in that famed fiery glow, just in time for the bullet to strike her shoulder as if it were nothing but dust and feather.

“As I thought.” Sofia silently commended her skill of deduction as she lowered the weapon,

“You shot me!” Nell screamed, padding herself down. Checking she was in one piece.

“I aimed for your shoulder nothing more. Besides, you’re quite fine.” Sofia blew the crackling smoke from the pistol's end.

“You…you fuckin SHOT me!” Nell repeated.

“Did you know for sure that would work?!” Roxy squealed.

“Well. I wasn’t entirely convinced but I thought it quite probable.”

“God help us and save us! You can’t half pick ’em, Nelly.”  Roxy blew out a breath as George smiled broadly at a shivering Nell.

“She’s mad! You’re stark raving bonkers you are!” Nell shouted at Sofia.

“Please. If you wanted predictable and stable, you just made love to the wrong woman, Nell Jackson.”

“I …I can’t believe you shot me!”

“You’re fine, my love.” Sofia kissed Nell softly on the lips as she casually approached. The renegade's mouth remained hanging open.

“Perhaps think twice before referring to me a Sowf ever again though. Just a thought.” Sofia quirked a brow as she looked into Nell’s morphed, glowing eyes.

“Will this sprite talk to me? I wonder?” She circled Nell, inspecting her form for something mystic.

“It don’t work like that. Only I can see him and hear him in my head.” Nell babbled as her heart rate finally came back down.

“How curious. And what is he saying now?”

“That you’re a proper nutter!” Nell shrieked.

“Come inside, ask it if it knows of these symbols, then…we go after Thomas and we kill that thing, together.” Sofia stood tall.

“Alright. Christ, let’s get this done.” Nell blew out a breath.

“This ends tonight, girls! This eve… we will destroy this creature once and for all.” Sofia assured as she casually strolled into the cottage, her firearm slung over her shoulder.

“You alright, Nelly?” Roxy whispered as she stood close to her sister.

“Yea, I’m screwed though.” Nell nervously replied.

“I can’t believe she fired a bloody gun at ya, Nell.”

“I know, but… I think it’s made me want her more, kid,” Nell gulped.

“Oh, for fucksake.” Roxy rolled her eyes.

Chapter Text

“We’re wasting time!”

 Pacing inside the modest cottage, Sofia grew weary of Nell’s unhinged ramblings as she conversed with her sprite. To a bystander, Nell Jackson appeared quite mad as she seemingly talked to herself.

“Are you sure, Billy? Let's be honest, mate. You’ve dropped the ball on this sort of thing before, ain’t ya?” Nell sighed resignedly, which only served to frustrate Sofia further.

“Whatever is it saying now?” Irritated, Sofia resisted the urge to stomp her foot. If only she could address the sprite herself.

“He says them funny lookin symbols ain’t Latin.”

"Oh, for heaven’s sake, I'm perfectly aware of that! I am a witch, you know. It's neither ancient Egyptian, Greek, Sanskrit, nor Aramaic. I am fluent in these languages if not greatly familiar." Sofia huffed before folding her arms and tiresomely rolling her eyes.

“Alright. Keep ya flippin hair on, Mrs. Fancy.”

Sofia stepped into Nell’s personal space. She was scowling as she surveyed the renegade’s features.

“I just LOATHE that misogynistic tone that far too frequently leaves your lips. I find it condescending and well … utterly brutish!” The Wiccan's eyes roved across Nell’s ever-creasing features.

The highwaywoman closed the gap further, the tip of her nose almost touching Sofia’s. From the sidelines, the two Trotter sisters served as spectators, their gaze taken from one hero to the other as if watching some ill-fated tennis match.

“Condescending?... You’re the one showing off all them snooty dead languages when some of us can barely speak English! You…showy mare!” Nell dared.

“Your poor education is not MY fault!” Sofia snarked a response.

“Course it is, Toff ain’t ya. Some of us had to go out begging for food whilst you lot were locked up in bloody great mansions, reading too many friggin books whilst being brought tea and cake by the roaring firepit! There are no schools for kids like me. Your Tory lot saw to that!”

Locked up, that was perhaps the critical phrase Sofia need not hear.

“I am not without my trauma, Nell Jackson, inheritance or not.” Sofia pushed past Nell, heading for the door.

“Sowf...I mean, Sofia. Wait!” Nell’s shoulders sank as Sofia ignored her pleas to calm down.

The door slammed shut in Nell’s face. She stood bone idle, unsure of how to proceed. She glanced towards her sisters, who merely stood arms folded and in allegiance with Sofia.

Helpless and out of her comfort zone, Nell could only shrug.

“What?” She huffed.

“Well, go after her then! You stupid prat!”  Roxy ushered Nell to the door.

“And say what?”

“She’s your bloomin' girlfriend, not ours. Maybe start with sorry I’ve got such a big gob and thick head!” Roxy barked.

“I'd make it quick if you ever wanna get a shag out of her again. She don’t strike me as the kind of woman that waits, Nelly.” -  Roxy shoved Nell out of the front door.

Stumbling into the small courtyard garden, Nell found Sofia had not strayed far. She stood with her hands on her hips, muttering and pacing back and forth as she offered herself counsel. Nell held up both hands in surrender, an apology on her lips.

“Look. I don’t fink sometimes before I speak. I just sort of blurt stuff out and...

“Me too.” Sofia conceded.

“I don’t have many friends because of the way I am. I’m rude and pig-headed. It’s never done me many favours. I’m not great in social settings either. I've always been too anxious and clumsy. I just end up being a right ole nobber.” Nell pushed her hands into her pockets and cast her eyes to the dirt; a flush of red overcame her cheeks as she felt Sofia scrutinise her.

“Again…me too. Although, I'm not entirely certain what a nobber is.” Sofia couldn't help but smile as she drew Nell closer. She was relieved to feel the renegade surrender to her embrace, wrapping strong arms around the aristocrat's narrow waist.

“I’m sorry. I know life in that horrible house wasn’t ...

“It was a jail, not a house.” Sofia interrupted.

“But you’ve seen inside Newgate Prison, ma darlin’. Crawlin with rats, disease, assaults. Least you was warm and fed.”

“Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage. Perhaps someone might write that down one day.” Sofia sadly smiled.

“Where’s Moggers when we need her?” Nell smiled, cuddling Sofia closer to her. She felt the Sorceress’s soft lips tickle her ear with a whisper of words.

“Some injuries lay bare within the heart and go untreated, making one gravely ill of the soul if not body. There is such a thing as a virus of the mind, Nell. A mental illness caused by one's upbringing. It's not just Thomas that I have to get back; that thing represents a slice of myself I wish I had not tendered so much care to. I have fostered a darkness in myself that I must destroy as well as that creature.”

That soothing scent of lavender once more caught Nell’s nostrils. She held Sofia at arm’s length just in time to see tears form in her eyes. A defiant rise of brow halted the salty droplets from tipping over down mountainous cheekbones. Sofia Wilmot looked vulnerable, simply beautiful. The Wiccan took note of the flare of arousal set off in Nell’s swirling Iris. She felt the renegade's grip tighten upon her upper arms as thirsty eyes wandered Sofia’s form. Possessiveness, hunger and that usual shade of rebellion stained Nell’s features handsomely.

“Just when I start to wonder how on earth a relationship will ever work between us, you stand this close to me.”  Sofia declared.

“You deserve a fine woman, Nell Jackson. A good woman who tends to your needs,” Sofia whispered, trembling about her person as Nell pulled her closer. The aristocrat absentmindedly ran her hands up Nell's toned forearms, allowing herself a feel of firm stomach muscles as she drew her body further into her Highwaywoman's, looping her arms around the taller girl's neck.

Sofia’s voice sank into something altogether more husky.

“Gods, I’m so tremendously attracted to you.”

“And I can’t take my eyes off ya! We ain’t done, woman.” Nell pressed her lips firmly against Sofia’s

“I should think not. I ache for your touch deep inside.” Sofia managed between kisses.

“Wouldn’t mind a round two from you either, snobby cow!” Nell’s gruff response only enflamed Sofia further.

“It would be my pleasure to have you holler my name once more, commoner! How easily I made you beg.” Sofia teased through a smile, pleased to feel a quiver take hold of Nell as the wild Witch peppered soft nibbles and bit upon Nell’s throat.

“You ain't having that much control next time!” Nell growled as she pawed at Sofia’s clothing.

“Prove it!” The wiccan snarled as she dragged Nell closer to her.

“Oi! Put a lid on it!” Roxy hollered from the doorway. Trying to keep her gaze from Nell's hand reaching up Sofia’s billowing skirt.

“Just …allow us a moment.” Sofia refused to separate from her renegade.

“How’s about you get your arse’s back in here! Them symbols are glowing!”

“Excuse me! They’re doing what?” Sofia quickly pushed Nell off her, much to the heated renegade’s displeasure.

Back in the cottage.

“See!” Roxy nervously pointed. The collected symbols emitted an ethereal glow, the brightness of each growing the closer Nell and Sofia got.

“Nelly, stay back!” Billy hollered from within.

“It's…pretty looking, ain’t it.”   Nell whispered to Sofia.

“Indeed.” She responded, reaching for Nell's hand.

 “Don’t take her hand! Let go of her hand, Nelly!” Billy hollered.

“What’s happening?” Roxy squealed as the cottage became engulfed in a sudden golden haze and light.

With a crash and a bang, Sofia found herself flung across the room. This strange light casts aside Nell in much the same way. She was tossed to the opposite side of the small cottage space as if she weighed nothing.

“Nell!” Roxy hollered as the renegade landed in a heap behind the armchair.

Sofia quickly came to, shaking her head and suddenly screaming as Billy sat before her, perched on the toe of her boot.

“Aaahhh!” Sofia cried once more.

“Charming. Please to meet you too.” Billy scoffed as Sofia clutched at her heart.

“I…I  can see you!” Sofia exclaimed, pointing to the tip of her toe. Roxy and George were startled as the Wiccan appeared to pale at an unseen assailant.

“It’s a bonding spell. You’ve cast a bonding spell on an ancient set of druid glyphs.”

“What nonsense. I strongly dispute those symbols being Celtic. I know Celtic.” Sofia tilted her head curiously at the miniature creature.

“No, Miss smarty-pants. Not this version you don’t. It’s Brythonic…the forbidden texts.” Billy whispered in jest.

“The Tiberius Scrolls? It cannot be. He was a madman who sought to erase Druidry from history. I thought the banned text was just a myth,” Sofia scratched her head.

“The thing about myths is they tend to be true, love. Look at us; you’re a witch talking to a fairy.”

“Touche’” Sofia bowed her head, acknowledging Billy’s wit.

“I did not cast a spell on purpose. Truly, there is no malice on my part here.”

Sofia looked up at a reddening Roxy, who set her angered gaze upon the Wiccan. Billy stepped in.

“Oh, I know you didn’t. You did have at our Nelly on top of a sacred stone circle though. Did you ask her to marry you? Say something sentimental to her?”

Roxy’s eyes went wide.

“Marry our Nell? You can’t, can you? You’re both girls for God’s sake.” Roxy’s brow knitted in confusion.

“Everyone calm down. It wasn’t a proposal as such.…I may have said I do not permit you to lay with another, that I give myself to you. Words of that ilk.”

“And Nelly said?”

“Well…not an awful lot, in truth. She’s not a terribly romantic woman. We just….

“You just what?” Billy fluttered his wings, now sitting on the Wiccan's shoulder. Roxy rolled her eyes, already anticipating Sofia’s answer.

“We just made love…again.” Sofia blushed.

“There you go then. Mythically bonded, not something easily broken. What’s yours is Nelly’s, and hers is yours.” Billy presented himself proudly.

“Well, I might say. That’s a terribly grey area. Not entirely transparent. Bonded for life over some simple flirtations and …

“And shaggin! Shaggin’ on a magic …. thingy!” Roxy shouted, gesturing towards the flickering symbols.    

“I was not aware of its presence!” Sofia bellowed back, throwing her arms in the air.

George interrupted the rowing women.                    

“Wait, if you can see Billy. Then you’ve got our Nell’s powers. So…where have yours gone, Miss?” The child gulped.

All eyes were warily directed towards the slumped pile of Nell behind the armchair.

“Nelly…you alright?” Roxy called tentatively as the heap stirred.

Her throat dry and her words lost, Nell lets out a cry of the dead.

Nell stood slowly with her back turned to her audience. Her steps seemed sluggish and disordered. A quick shake of the head and a crack of the neck caused an audible wince from her spectators. When Nell opened her mouth to speak, she only managed to cough up a strangled gasp of air.

“Nell?” Sofia’s voice held just as much reservation as Roxy’s

Nell turned sharply to the sound of Sofia’s tone. The wiccan stepped back as Nell’s eyes filled with a black goop, her skin sallow and mottled.

“Aaahhhh!” George let out a girlish scream as Nell immediately sought to chase her about the armchair.

“Gods, I hope I don’t look like that when practicing the dark arts?” Sofia asked, holding George close as the child stumbled into her, sluggishly pursued by a Zombie Nell at a snail’s pace.

“Poor, Nelly. Them pitch black eyes, pale skin and red hair. It's not a good look. You pull it off lovely Lady Wilmot. What with the olive skin and brooding brunette charm. All that long dark hair and…

“Will you shut up!” Both Roxy and Sofia yelled at Billy. They were already tired of his never-ending chatter.

“Do something, Sofia!” Roxy yelled at the witch as Nell swiped her arms about as she growled and grumbled.

“We must restore ourselves to a natural state,” declared Sofia as she skillfully dodged Nell’s grasp.

“She’s a witch now—a dark, powerful one. That’s proper satanic blood magic racing through her. You’re a naughty girl playing with that malarkey.” Billy shook his head at Sofia.

“A witch! What’s the point in Nell being a bloody Witch? It’s all spell books and incantations. She can’t fuckin read!” Roxy hollered.

“That does seem to be quite the plot hole.” Billy grimaced as Nell stumbled as she reached for Sofia once more.

“Trust Nell to become the most pointless sorceress ever. She’ll be a nightmare, she will. Be conjuring up ale and giving herself a cock for the day.”

Sofia quirked a brow, “Not quite so pointless then. This kerfuffle might not be without its merits” The wiccan contained a smirk as she sought to grapple with Nell.

“It’s actually a fairly simple spell, if I recall.” Sofia pondered as Nell listlessly fought back.

Roxy tutted, shaking her head at Sofia, who now managed to topple a zombie-like Nell and wrestle her to the floor.

Billy swiftly shot into Sofia. The Wiccan felt a sudden rush of protective light powers filling her soul. Her eyes glowed golden, and her strength increased tenfold as she straddled a snarling Nell.

Sofia cleared her throat.

“I was referring to the ale.”

“No, you weren’t! You pervy slag! We’re in this mess because you are a POSH horny slapper that can’t keep your filthy mitts off our Nell. At it for ages you were the two of ya!”

“I suggested she use the pillow, but I'm afraid she rather lost herself at my touch.” Sofia raised her chin arrogantly before raising a fist at a growling Dark Nell beneath her.

“Forgive me, my love.” Sofia slammed a balled-up fist upon the brow of a possessed Nell. The renegade was out cold.

Sofia admired her newfound strength.

“One could get used to this.” She grinned as she gazed at her closed fist.

Moments later….As Nell remained out for the count, the girls and Billy gathered around the humming symbols.

“Are the symbols bad, Billy?” George took Sofia by the hand.

“A very long time ago. In the 1st century AD, the Druids faced oppression from the Romans. Tiberius banned Druidism, all due to false accusations of human sacrifices. After this, in the 2nd century, Druidism appeared to end,” Billy explained.

“Oh, I’ve read several theories to try and explain this. The most persuasive implicates the arrival of Christianity. Have you by chance taken an opportunity to read the Arch Druid?

“I have not. Tell me more.” Billy leant in, folding his arms and thoroughly investing in Sofia.

“I’ve heard whisper of a revival of Druidism amongst the upper classes. A shamanic religion relies heavily on a combination of contact with the spirit world and holistic medicines to treat (and sometimes cause) illnesses. You know, it’s said elder druid women had the power to self-induce insanity, making themselves quite accurate fortune tellers.” Sofia shared.

Roxy whispered across the room as she tended to Nell, but her words fell on deaf ears.

“I think I can read them symbols. I…I  think I know what it's saying.” Roxy once more repeated.

Neither Sofia nor Billy paid attention to the teenager as she suddenly noticed a fledgling ability to decipher this condemned text.

“Oh, I love Nelly, But I quite like talking with you, Lady Wilmot.” Billy gushed over a well-read aristocrat.

“You know, I remain quite taken by the fact scholars believe it took about twenty years to learn the lore; it was that complex and had to be learnt off by heart as they rarely used a written language.”

“Excuse me.” Roxy held up her hand, waiting to be noticed.

This is one reason we know so little about the old pagan ways or understand their forgotten text.” Billy marveled

“We ought to make it our first endeavour to learn this text, perhaps find more of it.”

“I can fuckin read it! You pair of nobbers.”

Finally, Roxy got Sofia’s attention.

“And there’s that horrid word again.” Sofia turned to face Roxy

“How? How can you read this, and we cannot?” The witch enquired.

“I dunno, I just can. There have been a few funny things happening to me. Like, I knew Thomas wasn’t right. I felt Poynton’s evil spell over him.”

“Well, what does it say?” Sofia pushed.

“Something about the Fae? Who are they?” Roxy nervously enquired.

Billy and Sofia turned to each other, sharing a knowing look.

“I’m afraid the answer to that is somewhat… complex.” Sofia patronised.

“Oh well, don’t mind me. I’m the only one who can bloody read this after all.”

Sofia let out a great sigh.

“You’re correct. My apologies. The Fae are more than mere mortals but less than gods. I believe Billy and I are part of such a species. A mythical creature of old, most are in hiding for fear of persecution.”

“Right, and when’s your birthday?” Roxy’s eyes remained focused on the symbols as she miraculously deciphered them.

“I beg your pardon?” Sofia frowned as Roxy seemingly ignored her earlier response.

“You deaf or something? When’s your birthday.” Roxy eagerly repeated.

“October 31^st.”  Sofia narrowed her eyes on the younger girl.

“Then I think this is talking about you. A child born on Sam…Sar”

“Samhain” Sofia correctly pronounced.

“Is that a demon? Is that what Fae are?” Roxy cast a look over Sofia, never quite fully trusting the witch.

"It's a festival to mark the beginning of the dark part of the year, known as Gaelic for November. According to the old calendar, this festival was the New Year. It was a celebration of the final harvest and a day filled with mysticism and spirituality. It was believed that on this day, the living and the deceased were closest to being able to interact with each other."

“Surely you’re not surprised someone as powerful as you were born on All Hallows Eve.” Billy chuckled.

“I always thought it just a rather jolly coincidence.” Sofia scoffed.

“Clearly not.” Billy perused the symbols as Nell started to stir.

“It was my mother's birthday also.” Sofia added

“And mine …. that’s my birthday too.” Roxy muttered. Immediately getting Sofia’s attention.

“Well, Isn’t that something? And you can read this, I wonder?” Sofia pondered, running her eyes over Roxy.

“There is something about you, child. Isn't there.” Sofia leaned in closer to Roxy.

Nell stirred.

“Nell…is that you?” Roxy tenderly spoke.

With a groan and a great sigh, Nell got to her feet.

“Oh, fuckin Hell, my head is banging. I wish people would stop chuckin me about.”

“Nelly!” Roxy set forwards. Crushing Nell in a tight embrace.”

 “Steady on, kid. My bones are aching.”

Nell glanced about the cottage; she immediately took note of Sofia's glowing eyes.

“Oi, Wilmot. I want my superpowers back, thank you very much. You can have this weird witchy horror show back an all. I’m sick of seeing dead people.”

“Agreed. The question is, how?”

“I’m guessing the same way we swapped over; take my hand.”

Nell reached out a calloused grip. Sofia smiled.

“I rather like holding your hand.” She blushed.

“Same here, but let’s get things back how they should be, my girl.”

“You might consider bowing. You’re talking to the anointed leader of the Fae.” Sofia arrogantly tossed her hair.

Nell rolled her eyes. Her deathly dark stare lingered and took root as Sofia’s powers settled into a new host.

"From what I overheard, it seems like it's either you or Rox." Nell wiggled her eyebrows at a cocky Sofia.

Sofia paused, an unreadable expression on her features.

“It ain’t me. Can’t be me, Nell. I’m …nobody.” Roxy blushed.

“I think we are about to find out.” Sofia muttered under her breath.

“Either of you, it's gonna go to your head, right? You're already full of yourself and a right pair of old mums.”

At that, Nell slipped her hand into Sofia’s. Her eyes closed tightly as she focused on trading powers with Sofia again, but nothing seemed to be happening.

“It’s not working…” //Boom!!//Both our heroes are flung across the room once more.

Nell stood up first and patted herself down to ensure everything was alright. Sofia remained lying on her back. She let out a breath and then slowly sat up. Her dark hair obstructed her view. With a shaky hand, she reached out, trying to find something to hold onto to help her get up. She brushed her dark hair aside and saw a blurry open hand reaching out to her.…. Roxy.

“Come on then, not gonna take over the world sat on your arse, me lady.” "The teenager mocked as she curtsied. Sofia took the tease as the closest thing to a peace offering from the cautious Trotter girl. She took the hand gladly, her eyes widening as the teenager showed unexpected strength, pulling the older girl to her feet. It seemed a working-class life of hard work, and labour made one rather buff.

“Thank you, you have proven in this moment to be far more gallant than thy sister.”

Both women peered upon a flustered Nell who seemed to search the dark corners of each room for an assailant.

“Whatever are you doing?” Sofia raised a brow.

“Looking for them ghosts.” Nell's teeth all but chattered.

“What you on about, you absolute nutter?” Roxy's voice lifted an octave.

“She is referring to the dark spirits of the underworld. They sort of come as part of the package with these gifts of mine. Nell has had a glimpse of my world, albeit briefly.”

“You mean you see them all the bloody time!”

“Since I was a child, yes. They mean no ill.”

“One of them doesn’t have a bloody head!” Nell squealed.

“Oh, that’s Jack. It's just awful how that occurred. It really wasn’t his fault,” Sofia grimaced.

“Let me get this right. You know the names of the dead people you see?” Nell’s mouth dropped open simply agog.

“Of course. Is that strange to you?”

“Yes!!” Both Roxy and Nell called in tandem.

“Seems perfectly reasonable to me.” Sofia shrugged, bending down to an intrigued George.

“There is an old Irish legend about a miser named Jack who was too stingy to go to Heaven and too clever to go to hell. The gods made it so he must spend eternity roaming the earth with a lighted pumpkin for a head that served as a lantern held under one arm. That’s my Jack. Sofia proudly smiled.”

“Wow!” George marvelled.

“Not a boring woman, are ya.” Nell let out a long exhale.

Sofia stood slowly, her footsteps light as she closed the gap between her and a now smiling Nell.

“Absolutely not. But this is what you signed up for.” she teased, offering Nell the most stolen of kisses.

“Right, shall we open this vault then?” Sofia stepped away from a still-swooning Nell.

“And you’re quite sure?” Sofia turned to Roxy.

On her hands and knees, Roxy peered at the many symbols scattered across the cottage's stone floor. The flustered teen had changed her mind more than once, this had to be the correct order of these accursed symbols.

“Tell me those druid thingy events again,  in order.” Roxy asked the well-read Sofia.

“Imbolc, Ostara, Beltane, Litha, Lughnasadh, Mabon, Samhain, Yule” Sofia calmly repeated to the focused young girl.

Roxy read the symbols once more.

“That’s definitely the right order.”

“I know my pagan calendar.” Sofia sounded certain,

“Is one more important than another?” Roxy pondered.

“Yule is a key part of the life cycle of the ‘Child of Promise’, conceived in Ostara and born in the winter solstice as the ‘Sun Child’ who will defeat the powers of darkness, ushering in nature’s triumphant return.”

“Ouch, that sounds like something our wormy friend wouldn’t like,” Nell chirped in the background.

“Indeed.” Sofia agreed.

This had to be it. After almost an hour of deliberation, Nell bit her nails, and Sofia struggled to remain calm. Sofia glanced at a scribbling George.

“What are you doing, Child?” Sofia demanded a response.

George sat cross-legged, a collection of rocks at her feet gathered up from the courtyard.

“I’m copying them symbols, Miss. Maybe we should take em with us.” George shrugged, not sure of what she was saying. She just wanted to help.

“Let me see.” Sofia approached, George sat clear of the rocks, allowing Sofia to inspect her work. To her pleasure, George had copied each symbol to perfection.

“I say, I think you’re rather good at art, my dear child.”

“We can take the power of those symbols with us. You can cast spells with them, and we will save Thomas!”

Sofia felt a lump form in her throat.

“You would wish to save him after all we have done to your family?” Sofia’s voice broke.

“Yes, Miss. If we save Thomas, you won’t be sad anymore, and you can go ahead and marry our Nell.”

Sofia couldn’t stop a tear from rolling down her cheek.

“What would you be to me then? A mum?” George innocently asked.

“No. I..I believe the correct term is sister-in-law.”  Sofia’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“Right, I guess that’ll have to do then.” George once more shrugged, collecting up her stones in a small pouch.

From across the room, Sofia’s eyes caught Nells. They simply stared at one another, momentarily lost. Nell allowed a smile to pull at the corner of her mouth as Sofia sought to contain her emotions.

“She’s only this bloody cute when it suits her, you know.” Nell returned George’s pout as she skipped towards Roxy

A sudden loud metallic clanking sound forced all to step back.

“Oh, my god! I did it! I’ve only gone and bloody done it!” Roxy punched the air as a large stone trapdoor ground open.

“Step back!” Sofia offered her hand to Roxy, who took it up swiftly as Sofia pulled her from harm.

Sofia went wide-eyed as the teen suddenly wrapped her arms around her.

“We did it!” Roxy allowed herself to jump up and down in Sofia's arms.

“Blimey!” Nell gasped. She never thought she’d see the day Roxy Trotter would hug a Toff.

All eyes now peered down the ominous staircase.

“I should go first.” Nell sought to pass Sofia, only to find the stubborn wiccan blocking her path.

“Why you?” Sofia gently pushed Nell back via a flat palm in her chest.

“Well, because you’re a lady and I am a…

“A what?” Sofia arched a brow.

“Not a lady.” Nell stood tall.

“There could be anything down there, and you are afraid of almost anything spiritual.” Sofia chuckled.

“Well, that worm isn’t a spirit; it’s a beast, and I’m made for slaying those.” Nell once more puffed out her chest.

“And I am what...your sidekick?” Sofia frowned.

“You’re the brains, I’m the muscle.” Nell flexed; her expression fell into confusion as Sofia pushed her back once more. Unimpressed by the dominant display.

“I think you’ll find I am leading this expedition, Miss Jackson.”

“Oh, we back to Miss Jackson again.” Nell folded her arms, standing up to Sofia.

“Have you explored this creature’s domain before? Because I have,” Sofia was blunt.

Roxy rolled her eyes.

“Will one of you just back down, Christ? How will the two of you ever live together, let alone be bonded for life?”

“Fair point. You’ve been down there, I haven’t.” Reluctantly, Nell bowed to Sofia’s experience.

“That’s rather my point.” Raising her chin elegantly, Sofia tried not to let her stance mirror the natural state of superiority she felt bubbling inside.

“You lead the way; the first sign of trouble, I’m right by your side.” Nell vowed.

Sofia's expression softened. By her side, this perhaps was the first time anyone had ever made such a vow of loyalty and support to her.

“You’re just adorable and perfectly handsome.” Sofia stepped closer to Nell, who felt herself magnetised towards her love.

“No! We’ll have none of that!” Roxy pushed herself between the heated lovers.

“Bloody hell, two of you don’t know when to turn it off, do you!”

George giggled as Nell's eyes remained closed, her lips puckered like a gasping Goldfish.

“Lead the way! Your ladyship!” Roxy pointed towards the darkened, damp stairwell as Nell pulled a display sword from the wall.

Once they had cleared the steep stairs, the brave girls and Billy found that, as Sofia suspected, this vault led to a passage towards the creature's lair.

This place they currently explored truly was a stunning and unique environment of underground rivers and streams, vast quiet chambers adorned with thousands of delicate stalactites hanging from the roof, deep shafts reverberating with the sound of the waterfalls crashing down them, cascades, and walls rich in fossils.

This terrain is such a rough and jumbled landscape of bare bedrock ledges, surface drainage, sinkholes, and caves. This creature burrowed deep. Tearing up landscapes and reshaping the earth below by the removal of bedrock. It ate through limestone, dolomite, gypsum, and even salt. As a result, rainfall flows into closed depressions and down into drains. Further dissolution in the subsurface formed these continuous conduits that transport rapid movement of underground water. The outlets for the water-carrying conduits often are springs of majestic size. 

“It's beautiful down here, Miss. Like another world.” George marveled

“A world to which we do not belong.”  Sofia cautioned.

From the back of the pack, Billy’s voice echoed through Nell’s mind. The tiny sprite periodically whizzed around the girls. Sofia caught a glimpse of fairy dust littering the air as the creature buzzed by her. It was oddly comforting.

“She's very pretty, Nelly. She has a nice strong jaw and lovely blue eyes.” Billy praised Sofia's looks.

“I know.” Nell grumbled as she followed behind Sofia and her siblings. The renegade remained displeased with not taking point.

“She’s very clever, Nelly.” Billy went on.

“I know! Christ.” Nell raised her voice slightly, gaining the crew's attention for a moment. The highwaywoman raised her hand in apology.

“She’s well-read and has quite the scientist’s mind.” Billy couldn’t help himself.

“Bloody hell! What’s your point?” Nell finally snapped.

Sofia turned, casting a glance over her shoulder at a following Nell. A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips as she remained perfectly aware it was Billy wittering on in Nell’s ear.

“I’m just wondering how you’ve pulled her.” Billy teased.

“Oi! I’m nice looking and all you know. Got a nice face, so I’m told.” Nell pawed at her jawline.

“And a magnificent backside.” Sofia heckled from the front of the pack as she listened in on Nell’s ramblings with the sprite.

“Ew. I think I’m gonna throw up. Funny taste in my mouth.” Roxy interjected.

“Ha! That’s what she said.” Nell added a wide grin on her face, much to Roxy’s eye roll.

“Hush now, enough of the frivolity. We’re getting closer.” Sofia held up her hand to silence her merry band of heroes.

“How do you know?” Nell called from the back of the pack

“The stench.” Sofia covered her nose and mouth; the gang quickly followed suit as the smell made its way down the stony path.

“Oh, my god. What is that?” Roxy gagged,

“Death,” Sofia simply stated, her thoughts turning to the last image of Thomas reaching out to her.

At that, Sofia raised a hand once more to halt her band of misfits.

“We’re here. This is where I found George…where I left Thomas.”

A loud rumbling shook the resolve of all in the pack. They huddled together. Nell drew her sword and gritted her teeth. Ready to have at her enemy.

“My dearest Sofia. I see you’ve returned. How foolish you are.” A familiar male voice called out from the darkness.

Chapter Text

The cottage above where Sofia first made love with Nell—my goodness, it had felt like home. Perhaps they should call a retreat. Could they run back up the treacherous stone pathway? Escape into the inviting flicker of candlelight and the plush furnishings of what could be a forever home. Alas, no. They must stand and face their foe or be hunted by it forever.

The depths of this place were cold, mouldy, and sterile. The cave covered in a network of vines forever winding in intricate pattern, strangling any other life in its path.. The floor was uneven, scattered with rough stones and dotted with numerous clumps of vile-looking fungi.

 As Roxy descended, she peered at the decaying remains of various arachnids. Their exoskeletons had shed and molted multiple times, creating a disturbing display of rebirth alongside a most necessary death. Previously consumed aphids and flies were ensnared in clusters of webbing that adorned most of the walls. Roxy briefly pondered their heroics. Was this to be their final fate down here? A most necessary death?

Someone had ventured down here in the past, though not for long. One particular section of the wall was coloured differently from the rest, resembling an altar or shrine. Had this beast attracted a mindless band of worshippers? The presence of cult-like symbols and the celebration of dark magic stood out prominently. How long had this demon enjoyed such worship? Scattered around the cave were the remains of those who had come before and failed to defeat this creature. Coffins and tombs were interspersed throughout the open space, creating an underground graveyard that had been lost and forgotten, overseen by this horrid beast.

 A menacing sound echoed in the cavern's empty air, immediately making Roxy feel uneasy. As George followed behind, she could hear the same hollow repeat resonating in the basement's emptiness.

“Sofia Blancheford, you're a terrible disappointment.” A voice called from the Darkness.

“Father?”

Sofia tread carefully as she descended the final few steps into the cavern.

“That ain’t him, Sofia.” Nell took up arms at her lover’s side as, from the darkness, a duplicitous mimic called out in the chord of Lord Blancheford.

Sofia knew that Nell's words were valid, still she struggled to hold back her response. Years spent aimlessly drifting through that stifling house's stale, winding corridors had left their mark. Much of that time was spent catering to the demands of this man. Her reply came instinctively, ingrained in her, filled with disdain even at the mere thought of her controlling parent.

“My father is a poor choice of glamour, worm. If you wish to entice my sympathy, you should have chosen someone I care about. His face will only make me swing a blade much more fiercely.”

“Care about?” – A disembodied voice mocked from the darkness. “ Who does Sofia Wilmot care about?” From the cloggy, damp air, a silhouette emerged from the mist.

Nell stepped forward. Her sword raised as she ushered Sofia to stand behind her.

Sofia kindly pushed Nell back.

“Nell, this is my fight. I must stand alone.”

The renegade assumed a defensive stance in front of her sisters. The two younger girls felt relieved by their older sister's protection as the figure emerged almost fully from the mist and approached Sofia.

“You don’t know what or whom I care about, creature. You don’t know me.” Sofia flexed her fingers outward. Nell glanced down as crackles of dark magic pulsed while the powerful Wiccan tightened her fists.

“Who does little Sofia Blancheford care about? isn’t it obvious?”

…HERSELF!”

Sofia stepped back. A perfect copy of herself casually emerged from the mist, donning a great smile.

“Bloody hell!” Nell spread out a protective arm before her siblings.

“Christ! Now there’s two of her!” Roxy rolled her eyes.

“Get out of here!” Sofia demanded.

“No way!” Nell snarled through gritted teeth, her dry palms squeaking loudly against the leather of her weapon hilt.

The creature had morphed into Sofia; it blew a teasing kiss toward the renegade.

“How dare you think to judge me, presume to know my heart and…

“Our heart is black!” the creature responded, its voice ringing as Sofia's.

“I have always been at your side. Your power was evident right from birth. I sensed it from realms afar. We are … exceptional.”

Sofia could only laugh.

“Exceptional? With your dark, treacherous whispers in my ear. We were only ever monsters, nothing more.” A lone tear rolled quickly down and over Sofia's high cheekbone; such was her regret for past dark deeds.

“You're not a monster, Lady Wilmot!” George bravely called from behind.

The creature peered beyond Sofia, a pure blue hue perfectly mimicking that of Sofia's own iris as she looked upon a now cowering George.

“I have people I care about now, beyond myself. You may have taken Thomas from me but…

“Taken Thomas? Thomas is here. Waiting for you.” The creature teased.

“You’re a liar. You will not distract me to get to them. Besides, if you somehow get by me, you will then have to contend with the wrath of Nell Jackson…now there is someone who deserves the title exceptional.”

“And this is whom Sofia Wilmot cares for? Ha!” Sofia watched as her doppelganger threw back its head and laughed with all the joy and delight as herself when contemplating dark deeds.

“You care for the feel of her body upon yours. The feel of her fingers pushing deep inside you. You will cast her aside like so many others when that gets tired. She is…worthy of our time though, for now at least. Very worthy indeed.” The creature cast its eyes over Nell’s form. The renegade replaced her footing as a carbon copy of Sofia's lustful gaze befell her.

The brave Wiccan stepped closer into the frazzled creature's space, face to face with her own image. She kept her voice low for the creature's ears only.

“We are not the same, and you will take from me no more!”

ZAPP!! Sofia hits the creature with her powers like a strike of lightening.

“One would like ones face back, heathen!” Sofia once more ran her powers through the doppelganger, watching herself writhe in pain.

“Go, seek higher ground!” Sofia commanded, pointing to a balcony-like structure carved into the rock above them.

“Listen to her…go!” Nell pushed George forward, who wasted no time sprinting for the higher ridge's safety.

“You too.” Nell sought to usher Roxy in the same direction as George.

“No way! I'm not letting that thing get away with speaking ill of us, Nelly. I wanna smash its bloody face in! Especially when it looks like her!” Roxy fumed.

Nell laughed heartily.

“Bloody hell. Never let it be said that you ain't a Trotter.” Nell beamed with pride, gifting her sword to Roxy.

“But, what you gonna fight with?” The teen worried.

At that, Billy crashed into Nell, forcing the highway woman's eyes to glow in that famed burn of orange.

“I don’t need a weapon, I am the weapon.” Nell smouldered.

“You go left…I'll go right! Let's kick this thing's fat arse!” Nell grinned, her roar fading on the wind as the creature winked back at her, perfectly imitating that disarming coy Sofia had so quickly charmed the renegade with only hours earlier.

“What are you doing? I told you this was my fight. Not yours.” Sofia snapped.

“Well, welcome to having a family; they never bloody listen.” Nell smiled warmly at Sofia, and the renegade was pleased to see the dark witch smile right back. Both women ducked just in time as Roxy joined the fight, swinging the sword at the creature's face.

All three girls stepped forward to confront Sofia’s rapidly recovering doppelganger as it easily recovered from Roxy’s assault.. The hissing mimic struggled to maintain its false facade as it morphed uncontrollably between Sofia, her father, and her mother. That last illusion was too much to bear.

“How dare you!” Sofia set forward, only feeling Nell pull her back.

“The original Lady Blancheford. Aristocracy by day, Mother Witch to her Coven by night.” The beast revealed.

Sofia, for a moment, looked unnerved.

“Oh, come now. You knew, surely? This power has been in you since birth. You're the queen of the dark. The daughter of the wickedest witch in the land, your father had no choice but to dispatch her.”

Sofia cackled.

“Interesting, when a woman finds her agency, she is a villain. When a man does, he is a purist, a hero. Rather than a murderer.”

The creature chortled right back in Sofia’s face.

“I am beyond your petty gender wars and limited views of what good and evil look like.”

Sofia shoved the demon out of her personal space. Her eyes surveyed the scattered tombs and coffins that littered the cavern. A dark thought crossed her mind… reinforcements?

The creature took note, reading Sofia’s mind.

“Go on, do it! Show them your power. The ability to raise the dead. Necromancer, dream walker, leader of the dark arts, just like your mother!”

“I will not disrespect the dead.” Sofia shot a fireball at her enemy, which was easily evaded.

“But a useful infantry indeed right now. In your predicament. The three of you alone will not defeat me. Use them, revive them!”

That same crackle of dark purple fizzed around Sofia’s elegant fingertips

“Sofia, don’t!” Nell called out. Worried for the heart of her newfound love.

Nell was pleased to see her Woman stand down, much to the creature's disappointment.

“WEAK! and a COWARD! If you will not make use of them…I WILL!”

Sofia surveyed the crypt. Her eyes landed on the many broken and busted-up coffins.

Closing her eyes, the dark copy of Sofia sucked in a breath, her mind focused on a very particular target.

Roxy jumped as a frantic knock hammered out from within a nearby coffin. The dust coating the modest wooden box puffed into the air as something from within banged out a request for freedom.

“Please, let them rest! Sofia pleaded with her enemy.

Nell was startled as the centuries-old coffin tumbled to the hard floor of the crypt. The ragged bones of the occupant tipped out in an undignified manner.

The creature paused, turning its attention to the commotion.

Roxy hid her face in Nell’s chest as the corpse laid out before them violently shuddered. Fragile bone realigned across the stone floor as the creature forced its will upon a long-dead soul. A puppeteer-like lift brought the long-dead, unnamed soldier to his feet again. Nell winced as the corporal's spine snapped loudly into place, allowing him to face the same direction as his cracked skull. With the slightest drag of a toe, he left marks in the dust and debris strewn across the crypt floor as the entombed warrior staggered toward the gathered girls.

“Your end will come quick so that we might bring this monumental disrespect to its end” Sofia sneered at her opponent.

Nell held Roxy close as the marionette horror show played out before her. Sofia saw rivers of black blood race around her duplicate body as the curses passed on from her mother laid bare.

“This is the potential of your power,” the dark version of Sofia declared through gritted teeth as more corpses dragged themselves out from the web-ridden burial chambers in the wall. The long-dead began to wander the sacred space and converge on Nell. The dark-haired doppelganger rocked herself back and forth as ancient abilities bubbled over and blew the lid off normalcy.

“These warriors are at arms again; what do you think they would say if given a choice to fight once more.”

A victorious growl sounded out from the pack of undead,

“I think they would cry out for you to DIE, FOWL BEAST!”

At that, Sofia blasted her tormentor with a mighty magic boom.

“Go on, that’s my girl!!” Nell applauded Sofia’s good aim. Now it’s my turn” Nell's eyes glowed a ferocious shade of amber.

Sofia took note of Nells movements and thought them nothing less than majestic. A rocking step that shifts the weight from one foot to the other, usually in three counts.

Sofia had been fortunate enough to have taken in a night at the ballet. She'd applauded many a sharp Brisé and perfectly executed Arabesque. How could such a delicate swish and sway now culminate in such crushing blows?

The Renegade’s fighting style was full of lolloping detail, featuring levers, pivots, and toreador face-offs.-  At its core was a flawless command of balance and poise. Nell's expression radiated self-confidence as she faced each doomed opponent. Sofia found it hard to believe that one could witness panic in the eyes of the dead. Yet, as Nell demonstrated incredible feats of tilt and speed as if her energy would never deplete, the hollow eyes of each gruesome ghoul reflected a stunned surprise, accompanied by an array of gaping jaws. Bones shattered and disintegrated into dust across the cavern floor.

Nell’s puns were wildly comic yet delivered entirely poker-faced, Sofia suspected her lover was having far too much fun.

“Oi, Rox! Do Zombies love fresh brains?”

Roxy rolled her eyes, knowing full well what pun would follow.

 “Of corpse they do!” Nell replied. A large grin stretched out across her cheeks as she smashed the skull of another wailing ghoul.

“I fear you’ve gone quite mad.” Sofia called across the fight arena to her still smirking love, a roar of burning orange leaving her palms as she toasted her doppelganger assailant with her powers,

Sofia maneuvered herself towards Nell. The two of them now soldered back-to-back and poised to strike at their enemies once more.

“The way you move is…. remarkable. Such beauty in violence.” Sofia was now struggling to contain her arousal as Nell fought by her side.

“Careful, you might fall in love.” Nell winked as she tossed another bag of bones into the air.

Turning swiftly, Sofia grabbed her highwaywoman by the front of her shirt, pulling her closer.

“I'm afraid we are far past the point of caution,” Sofia licked her lips as she remained glued to Nell's body; the Renegade tightened her grip on her Wiccan.

The two found themselves lost in a moment. The sounds of clashing metal and bone faded as a hazel gaze met a bright blue.

“I'm glad you didn’t do what it wanted ya to. You ain't a bad’en, Sowf.”

Sofia drew in closer, teasing her highwaywoman with a brief smile.

“Curses, I think that name is growing on me.”

“You're bloody lovely you are, Sowf.” Nell leant in, repeating her pet name for Sofia.

“You're so… irresistible.”

The two leaned in for a kiss. Hungry lips met and parted with haste repeatedly mid-battle. A clambering struggle ensued to taste each other as the kiss heated up. A struggling Roxy abruptly popped the erotic bubble.

“Are you two for real? Bloody well help me out, you pervy pair of harlots!” Roxy called for assistance as several of the ghouls sought to pull her to the ground,

From the balcony above, George fretted about the people she loved. Unwilling to do nothing, she felt her slingshot in her trouser pocket—there it was! She quickly gathered up stones. Pulling back the tightly fitted string, she felt the tension reach its limits, her tongue tip reaching for her top lip as if this aided her focus. Just as she was about to release, a weary voice called out.

“May I be of assistance, child?”

George screamed loudly. Nell looked at the balcony and heard the youngest Trotter calling out her name.

Amidst a tangle of suffocating vines, an imprisoned Thomas reached out.

“You alright, nipper!” Nell hollered as she smashed the skull of her latest attacker.

“Help me.” Thomas groaned, his body scrawny and the whitest shade of pale.

“Thomas!” George smiled. Scrambling to the balcony edge. The small child cupped her hands around her mouth to project her voice

“Lady Wilmot, I’ve found Thomas. He’s…He’s Alive, Miss!”

Stopping in her tracks. Sofia peered up to the sound of George’s voice.

“Thomas!” She smiled. happy to see his albeit withered face. Her joy was short-lived as her doppelganger assailant clattered into her back. Taking advantage of the distraction.

George fought to free Thomas from the vines, but his body slumped forward; the lightweight George could not support even a starving man's frame. He crashed onward, landing in a heap by the child's side

“You’ll be just fine…er…sir?” George frowned. Unsure how to address Thomas.

“I’ll keep you safe for Me, Lady.”

Like lightning, George set about firing her chunks of rock and shrapnel at the collected ghouls, one great lump going astray and striking the creature. It roared up at the balcony as it tussled with both Nell and Sofia.

“You’re a rather good shot.” Thomas weakly praised. His voice tired and breath short.

“I’ve had lots of practice, your Lordship.” George once again pelted her enemies from on high.

“Really, where?” Thomas coughed.

“The windows of your house. Nell hates the place. She used to take Roxy there an all for the same reason.”

“Oh, well. Always happy to help the local townsfolk.” Thomas struggled to stay conscious.

His blurred vision took in Sofia. From this distance, he doubted what he saw: his sister battling demons while periodically finding herself in Nell Jackson's arms. The highwaywoman twirled his sister into an intimate embrace.

“They're in love, sir.” George explained, noticing the curious frown on Thomas’s face.

“Well, she always did have a thing for the help.” At that, Thomas reached for an arsenal of pebbles and rocks with which to supply George,

“Here…Fire at will, soldier.” He slurred.

What with Thomas found alive, Nell’s incomparable fighting skills and Roxy’s grit. The creature’s powers were fading fast.

“No!” It whined as Thomas was set free. All but a handful of ghouls remained; one final blast of power from Sofia saw the creature knocked to the ground. Sofia was quick, standing over the demon as she snatched the blade from Roxy, pointing the tip at the throat of her felled enemy.

The creature's final insult was to morph into Thomas.

“If I die, he dies.” It threatened.

“He can't ever leave this place, not ever. And if I am no more, he will…

CRUNCH! …

Nell winched as Sofia wasted no time in forcing her blade through the skull of the fake Thomas. A pool of black blood oozed out. As the creature faded, it left Sofia one final threat.

“Death is not the end; I will return for you, my dark angel.”

At that, the creature was done. The remaining ghouls dropped to the ground…unfortunately…so did Thomas.

“Lady Wilmot! Come quick!”

Sofia dashed for the balcony. Nell struggled to keep up with her love as she bounded up a set of twisted stone stairs.

She was met with the sight of a deathly-looking Thomas. Nothing stirred him.

“Thomas! Thomas…no! What has become of my dear, sweet boy.” Sofia cried as she gathered up her brother's limp body in her arms.

Despite Thomas's crimes, Roxy could not help but shed a tear on hearing Sofia's distress. George fought with Sofia to bring some life back to Thomas by shaking him. But what of Nell?... The renegade just looked blankly down at her father's murderer.

“There must be something to be done. I don’t want to lose you.” Sofia pulled Thomas close to her breast, bereaved, heartbroken and at a loss.

Nell unfolded her arms. A quick glance at Roxy and George only revealed further upset. But this was Thomas Blancheford!

“Do something, our Nell. We have got to help him. I can't watch anyone die like this. Not in this horrible place.” Roxy's tone wobbled.

The renegade sighed greatly.

“Right, you'd best get out the bloody way then.”

Sofia quickly stood aside.

“What are you doing?” She sniffled.

“They showed us this during the war. I’ve seen many men brought back from the dead by it. It's what they taught us to keep the grunt numbers up on the front line or, heaven forbid, one of your tarty rich lot might have to share duties.”

Nell placed the heel of her hand on the centre of Thomas’s chest, then placed the palm of her other hand on top. She pressed down by five to six centimeters at a steady rate of compression. After every thirty so chest compressions, she gave two rescue breaths.

Nell carried on her work, again and again… it was well rewarded.

A breath escaped Thomas. Nell heard Sofia shriek with joy. Nell’s eyes landed on Roxy who only offered a simple nod. It was the right thing to do, despite it being Thomas Blancheford.

Sofia cried appreciatively as she kissed Thomas’s head and cradled him closely. Roxy took in Nell's lost expression. How would this ever work between her and Sofia? Nell despised Thomas. Roxy's heart hurt for them both.

“We need to get out of here, now! Nell noted the pre-collapse rumbles that caused the ceiling above to shudder.

George ran for Roxy. Sofia and Nell brought Thomas to his feet. He was still too weak to walk and gravely ill.

“Give him here.” Again, Nell sighed, lifting Thomas up into her arms.

“Not exactly the Blancheford I had in mind carrying over the threshold” Nell rolled her eyes as she picked up the pace as the cave fell in on itself

“Still, a Blancheford nonetheless.” Thomas wearily replied.

“Ain’t you just!” Nell sneered.

Using her powers, Sofia created a dome of protection all around. The girls still called out in fright as great chucks of rocks pelted the roof of Sofia’s spell.

Once more, Thomas called out in a weak whisper.

“S…Sofia. I want my sister. Take me home.”

Nell gritted her teeth as she looked down at the man who had taken her father from her and forced her to flee her home, hunted and feared by everyone. In short, the man she was saving had destroyed her life.

“Not a chance; you don’t have such an easy out. You need to pay for what you’ve done.” Nell grumbled.

Once clear of the collapse, Nell’s heart warmed when she saw a familiar sight.

“Moggers!” She happily called out.

“I brought some friends, but I fear you’ve had all the fun without us.”

Nell gasped as she saw a crowd of pitchfork-wielding villagers armed with flaming torches. They bore whatever weapons they could get their hands on to help battle the beast.

“Its the Blanchefords!” One called out angrily, the crowd surging for Sofia.

“Wait! Nell called out.

“She beat that thing. She fought by my side. Without her, we’d all be done for as would all of North London…maybe the world. She’s paid back her debt to this town… and me.” Nell defended Sofia as mutters of disbelief filled the mob.

“And what about him! That Rat bastard in your arms!”

Nell looked down at Thomas, then her eyes landed on a desperate-looking Sofia. Roxy held her breath, the teenager’s fists clenched at her side. Nell delayed. It took too long, and the crowd once more angrily jeered a passed-out Thomas. Sofia didn’t need words. Her watery eyes and tear-stained face pleaded with Nell not to give Thomas over to the hoard.

George piped up.

“It's true he fought, too. He helped me. He’s changed; he’s been through hell. No jail cell would be worse than being swallowed whole by that thing, trust me!”  George defended Thomas.

“House arrest.” Nell blurted out. Unable to stop the words leaving her lips. How she wanted to toss Thomas at the mob, still. She managed to spit out a lesser punishment.

The crowd came to silence.

“He doesn’t leave the Blancheford estate, and he works for us. Them snooty lot from the houses of parliament come to him, and he puts forward what we need for us! I'm tired of these bastards not working for us, the people. He will be a servant to this town that him and his lot have taken so much from. House arrest, that is what you get. Our own personal seat at the table through him!” Nell raised her voice.

“Yeah!” The crowd burst into rapturous applause, Chanting Nell's name and singing songs and ballads about her.

Sofia released the breath she’d been holding. She gave a brief nod to Nell in thank you, she was disheartened to see the renegade avoid her eyes and turn her back.

“Right, let's get home, girls.” Nell turned to her siblings. Roxy’s eyes lit up.

“Raz!” She called, sprinting towards an equally quick-footed Rasselas.

Lady Moggerhanger, Held open her carriage door. Nell was considerate as she set Thomas down in the back seat.

“You! I never thought I'd be so pleased to …

The lady Moggerhanger was taken by surprise as Nell flung her arms around her. The Mother in Eularia offered an instant comforting embrace as Nell sobbed into her best silks.

“You're home now. Take comfort. All you need is a hot bath and a pint of that dreadful ale you favor.”

“I don’t know how to make this work.” Nell’s words were partly muffled by Moggers still tight embrace,

“Whatever do you mean?” Eularia pried. Holding a teary Nell at arm's length.

“Him! I've just saved his vile skin …all for her.” Nell sniffled.

“Do you care for her?” Eularia already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Nell answered without delay.

“Oh, the things we do for love.” Eularia could only chuckle. “For what it's worth, I think you’ve done the right thing.” She added.

Nell looked on at Sofia as she hugged Rasselas and then scooped up George into her arms right after.

“You just have to believe it yourself, Miss Jackson or love alone simply won't be enough. Resentment is the most destructive breed of  rot.” Eularia cautioned.

Chapter Text

A week gone by….

Surrounded by the plush furnishings and luxury French wallpaper adorning the walls of Sofia Wilmot’s bedroom, Nell gripped the sides of the chair as her lover took the better part of her sex into her mouth. That telltale pause in breath and stiffening of the body told the wicca that her woman was about to tip over the edge. Correct as always, Nell’s cries of satisfaction were only equal in vigor to the uncontrolled thrusting of her hips as Sofia pushed her tongue deep inside her.

“Christ.” A breathless Nell praised as a victorious Sofia smiled back up at her, kissing the inside of her thigh, which glistened with the renegade's plentiful release.

“Fuckin Hell, you're good at that!” Nell’s vision blurred whenever Sofia worked this particular brand of magic on her.

“Think of it as reward for this morning. You pleased me twice, did you not.”

“Th...Three times I think you’ll find.” Nell managed as she caught her breath.

“Keeping count now. I see. Must everything be a competition between us?” Sofia smiled.

“Fencing, shooting, horse racing. Miss Jackson, I fear you may have met your match in the bedroom and been bested on each occasion.” Sofia again offered a teasing grin.

Nell did not reply. Sofia narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow as the Highwaywoman sought to stand, pulling up her pants and fixing her attire.

“What are you doing?” Sofia was quick to get to her feet .

“I best be going.” Nell made efforts to look for her missing boot which she’d kicked off across the room when carrying Sofia to bed in a frantic whirlwind.

“No, I simply won't allow you to leave this time,”

Sofia blocked the door. Much to Nell’s sigh.

The two stood in silence, unsure of what to say to ease the tension that had been building all week. They made love, and whatever stress and frustration lingered between them was quickly overcome. They were meant to be. So easy, so natural. Sofia quickly abandoned her previous dictation over sex. She just as quickly found herself beneath the thrusting Renegade as she found herself riding her perfect, handsome face and being very much on top. There were no rules, no safe words, just unbridled and unfiltered passion. Sofia had never felt comfortable laying in the arms of another after sex. But with Nell, she felt safe, protected and unjudged when cuddled up in her sheets with this wild woman.

“All week you’ve been in my bed. You let me make love to you, and then you leave.” Sofia's expression hardened.

Again, the room fell into silence. Sofia pressed her back into the door. Her chin held high, and her resolve made of steel.

“You know I don’t like this house. I hate this place, sowf.” Nell finally found her missing boot as she peered under Sofia's great ornate bed frame.

“As do I. It's not forever, it's just…” Sofia replied.

“Just what? Until you come live in Tottenham with me? In the back streets in a run-down old pub? You're a lady…you belong here. With nice things and a big mansion you can do what you want with. It's all yours, isn't it? All that money, the Blancheford estate. You're holding the purse strings now." Nell shook her head.

“I can do so much good from here. The very people who run this country were down on their knees before that creature, currying favor. They dragged Thomas into all that. I can stop that from happening again.”

Nell nodded in agreement. Sofia, indeed, she would be a beast when dealing with the members of parliament now forced to engage with the head of the richest family in England.

“Why? Why do you go to bed with me?” Sofia suddenly asked.

“What? What sort of question is that?” Nell now mirrored Sofia's frown.

“Answer me, damn you!” Sofia angrily snapped, forcing the Renegade to clench her fists.

“Because nothing makes me happier than falling asleep and waking up next to you!” Nell suddenly hollered, causing Sofia to startle. - “Even in this fuckin house!”

 “I feel you, when you're not around. I always want ya. Again, and again. Never get tired of being on you, in you. And I trust you; there isn't anything I wouldn’t let you do to me. I never used to understand why they called it lovemaking. Now I do.”  Nell half smiled as she looked Sofia up and down.

Sofia's head fell back, making a soft thud on the solid oak behind her. Still, she blocked the door.

“I feel the same. Truly, I do.” Sofia confessed.

“I know.” Nell plopped herself down on the bed. Her head in her hands.

Static and silence a buzz, Sofia sought to address the real problem between them.

“It's Thomas, isn’t it?”  She whispered into the volatile air.

Nell lifted herself off the bed just as quickly as she sat down, making a beeline for the door Sofia still guarded.

“We've talked about this, my love.” Nell grumbled.

“Yet still this tension remains.” Sofia instantly replied. She braced herself as Nell took great strides towards her. One boot still missing.

“You shall not pass!” Sofia remained determined.

“Sowf, just move!” Nell tried to reach beyond Sofia for the door handle.

“No!” Sofia fought to keep Nell from the large brass handle. The over-the-top door and fitting no doubt worth a year's salary to the likes of Nell. Every room of this house was full of evidence of outlandish gluttony and self-serving appetite for riches, while the ordinary people of Nell's hometown starved and suffered the indignity of no running water nor bed to sleep in.

“We need to talk about this, or this love that so easily breathes between us will find itself drowned.” Sofia pulled Nell's fingers from the handle, Nell was losing this battle for escape and getting further irate, she didn’t want this conversation again. Sofia, she pushed so hard for truth.

“You got your rat brother back. That was the deal!” Nell screamed for all to hear.

Sofia was stunned into silence.

“The…The deal?” She stammered.

“No, wait. I... I didn’t mean that.” Nell instantly regretted her words.

Sofia casually opened the door, holding it open for Nell.

“Sowf, I never meant that. Honest, I didn’t.” Nell repeated.

Sofia left Nell where she stood. That haughty swagger returned as her pricey boots hammered out the stern walk of a lady turned red with anger.

“My footman will see you out, Miss Jackson. My gamekeeper will escort you to the front gate.” Sofia stared blankly ahead.

“Fucksake, we back to all that shite are we? The scallywag escorted from me ladies' property.” Nell mock bowed, setting off after Sofia, still minus a boot.

“You started this!” Sofia yelled back over her shoulder; a glance, and she saw Nell almost upon her.

“Best watch I don’t fill me pockets with cutlery on the way out!” Nell closed down the distance with Sofia, grabbing her arm and forcing the fleeing Aristocrat to turn and face her.

Nell was faced with tears rather than rebuke.

“I love you.” Sofia softly spoke.

Nell took her lady’s face into her hands.

“I know that you stubborn, posh cow!” Nell went to kiss Sofia, only to feel her pull away.

Down the stairs, she flew, always out of the renegade's grasp until reaching the hallway, her eyes on the front door.

“Sowf, please. I'm sorry for what I said.” Nell pleaded.

“It's not just that.” She sadly replied.

“You kick me out. Know that I'm just down the road. Tenant now after all, ain't I?”

Sofia offered a wounded look.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that either. Shit, I'm so bad at this part with a girl.”

“Sofia…” Thomas called out shakily from the sitting room.

Nell let out a sigh.

“Look, he needs ya. Got to look after your own. Like I have mine.”

“I thought we were a family?” Sofia shook her head in disbelief.

Nell's eyes landed on Thomas. A snarl pulled at the corner of her mouth as her dead father's face flashed before her eyes.

“Do you truly want to hate him more than you want…us?” Sofia's voice broke.

“I just need some time.” Nell lowered her head, unable to look at Sofia's sad expression.

“Sofia…don’t ..”Thomas once more called out.

“If that was Roxy laid out like that, I wouldn’t leave her behind. Stay. Get him right.”

“And what of you?” Sofia closed her eyes as tears fell over her cheekbones.

“I belong in my scruffy little pub, looking after the girls and my punters.”

“Yes. You’re something of a leader to them now.” Sofia acknowledged.

“Know this. I won't ever be able to walk by this horrible old house again, least not without thinking about the most beautiful thing in it.” Nell choked.

“Nell..i."

“Don’t say it again… only make this harder. Just need some time, that’s all.” Nell walked backward towards the door.

A footman appeared, clearing his throat.

“Do you require your steed, Miss Jackson? Perhaps some footwear?” The older gent raised a brow at the single-booted ruffian locking eyes with her Ladyship.

“No. I'll see me-self out.”

At that, Nell was gone,

Sofia held her breath as Nell's retreating footsteps faded as they headed for the stables. Her heart missed a beat as her highwaywoman’s horse gathered clouds of dirt and took Nell away.

“Sofia…don’t.” Thomas called out once more, an eagerness in his tone now.

Sofia composed herself, wiping the tears from her face.

“Thomas, it's fine; I'm here.” She did her best to answer in a cheery tone as she approached him lying out on the couch. His hand reached out, which Sofia gladly took, kissing the back of it.

“Sofia, don’t let Nell Jackson leave.” Thomas finally finished his sentence.

“Pardon,” Sofia raised a brow,

“She’s quite correct. Indeed, you’re a stubborn, posh cow. You belong with that dreaded woman. She was meant for you and you her.”

Sofia could no longer hold back a tide of tears,

“She’s gone, it matters not. I fear I shall not see her again.”

“Then fetch my coat and finest wig so I might escort you through the doors of that dimly lit hovel of a pub. I shall give you a way to the woman you love.”

“Oh, Thomas!” Sofia quickly gathered her brother in a teary hug.

“My dear, clever Sofia. Always miles ahead of the rest of us. You have never been a fool. Don’t start now, sister.”

“She is fast on a horse. She will be halfway back to town already.”

“Faster than you, on a thoroughbred? I think not. Nobody beats my sister on the track, nobody. Not even Devil Nell.”  Thomas smiled weakly.

“She is a woman worth pursuing on the finest of steeds.” Sofia confessed to Thomas.

“Might I suggest the scarlet red dress? Something made of fine silk and befitting of The latest Lady Blancheford amid the commoners.” Thomas drawled.

“No… I have a much better idea.” Sofia’s eyes gleamed with mischief.

Nell wiped the bar top once again. - For the last ten minutes, Roxy had rolled her eyes as her sister cleaned the same spot over and over.

“Be nowt left of the grain by closing time. What’s up with ya?” Roxy intruded.

Nell did not answer. She sighed, shoulders slumped and staring blankly at the shadows of her patrons dancing across the walls as the pub's open fire burned brightly. Her customers still sang her ballad, The Ballad of Renegade Nell. It was mute to the woman herself though. All Nell really wanted was …her.

“You fell out with Lady Posh Knickers? That why you got a face on ya?” Roxy pushed once more.

Nell simply sighed.

“You look like a street mutt that was thrown out of a butcher's shop on Christmas Eve, Miserable cow!” Roxy found that even her usual insults did not snap Nell out of her morbid trance.

Roxy's eyes were taken to the far side of the bar area. Like the parting of the Red Sea, she watched as their patrons cleared the way. Some were brought to silence as a force to be reckoned with entered the pub.

 Roxy struggled to see what the fuss was about.

“Fuckin Hell. Just what we need. I think the Queen's guards here, Nell. Something’s got the punters spooked.”

As the figure passed through the quickly scattering crowd in Nell's busy pub, Roxy paled as she realized who had waltzed in all by herself…Sofia! Striding through hordes of Men, her expression was determined and unreadable.

“Av’ we paid the bills, Nell?” Roxy stammered; her sister's back still turned on the commotion as she sulked.

“What you on about?” Nell sighed aloud.

“Rents all paid up, innit?” Roxy added.

“Stop asking me daft questions, Rox. Just let me be.” Nell threw down her washcloth, still totally unaware.

“Nell!” Roxy tugs on her sister's apron strings

“Roxy. Leave off, will ya!” Nell whined

“Bloody hell, Nelly! TURN AROUND!” Roxy snapped, tugging hard on Nell's shirt.

That’s when she saw her….

After an audible gulp, Nell took note of the riding boots first. The leather meticulously tailored in a flattering slim fit and constructed for those slender cut calves. The damn boots! Nell knew she was drooling. There was more of Sofia to take in, but the way she was standing. Confident, unapologetic, a perfect juxtaposition of feminine and gallant all in one. How quickly had she ridden to get here so soon? Nell had barely had time to light the lamps on the pub's front of house. She dared to raise her eyes. Jodhpurs, skin-tight and shameless for the time. They sat high on the waist, ensuring they showed the twist and dip of her hips and a firm, flat stomach. Sofia's loose, billowing white shirt was stuffed carelessly into her belt, the buckle on show and flaunting one final act of rebellion, the Blancheford family crest. Sofia’s pointed collar turned upwards, ensnaring every falling trestle of loose, brunette waves. Sofia looked wild, a gleam in her eye and a predatory glare set on the soldered-to-the-spot renegade.

“Wilmot.”

“Nell Jackson.”  

The pub fell into silence.

“Fuck-in Hell.” Nell blew out the breath she was holding onto.

“I’m quite sure they do.  I’m certain one day I shall see for myself.” Sofia teased. Eliciting a chorus of wolf whistles from the gathered patrons.

A smirk pulled at the corner of Nell's lips. Did Sofia just make a bad joke?

Roxy’s eyes lingered on the Aristocrat who currently struck her sister dead. “Sweet Jesus…she's gorgeous. I hate her.”

“See if you can get me those boots before she kills ya, Nelly.”

Sofia approached, and the bar parted as she slowly slid off her leather gloves. Her eyes never once left Nell’s. Every rowdy drinker was silent, captivated by the performance before them.

“A drink? Something French, perhaps? A bottle of chardonnay, nothing after 1694, of course. Maybe some finely cut venison, a delicate chocolate mousse for dessert with fresh berries and cream.

Sniggers quickly shot about the crowd.

“Is that right?” Nell fought to keep her poker face; her eyes couldn't help but travel the length and breadth of the fine curves before her.

“What? Are you… ill-equipped to give a lady what she wants, barkeep?” Sofia arched a brow.

“I can't believe you’re here.” Nell swallowed hard.

“Well, I missed you terribly.” Sofia confessed.

She stalked the renegade.

“Has it been days? Weeks?” Sofia's voice was a hum about the bar.

“About an hour.” Nell surmised.

“Oh, how …dreadful.” Sofia smiled broadly.

On the ropes, Nell mustered a fight back.

“How’s about Tottenham’s finest, your Ladyship.” Nell turned; Roxy's eyes widened as she cottoned on to what Nell was up to.

“Nell, you can't give her that!” Roxy offered a panic-ridden whisper.

“There you are—our special brew. I’d let you have it on the house, but my landlady is…formidable. Nell once more ran her eyes over Sofia.

Sofia's eyes landed on a pint pot of lager before her.

“Bottoms up, Your Highness? Nell folded her arms, awaiting Sofia’s response.

“Very well, if this is what I must do to prove how much I love you, Nell Jackson.

Nell blushed as the pub fell into shocked gasps at Sofia's affirmation of love.

To Nell's astonishment, Sofia swept up the pot into a feminine hand; an indelicate glug followed as she threw back her head, making short work of the pint of amber ale. Each patron watched in amazement as Lady Wilmot finished a beer much quicker than even they might attempt. As Sofia slammed down the empty pot, an almighty cheer roared from the belly of the patrons.

“Nell Jackson.” Sofia lifted her voice overall in the bar.

A stunned Nell felt her cheeks burn with rosacea.

“Would you mind awfully if I ask you somewhat more publically to be mine and mine alone? I am willing to be wherever you are.” Sofia dropped to one knee.

A collective gasp filled the damp air. Were they shocked at the thought of two women as one? Shocked at a member of the aristocracy on her knees to a pauper? It mattered not. Nell took heart that not one patron offered jeer nor frown of disapproval.

“Say yes, our Nell!” A male voice called out from the crowd.

“Go on, Nell, or I will?” The crowd broke into brief laughter as a boyish-looking woman from the back called out.

Nell paused. Sofia arched a brow as the renegade played it cool, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. Sofia held her ground as the athletic Nell vaulted the bar. She crossed the short distance between them. Taking Sofia’s face in her hands, the highway robber kissed her fine lady tenderly to an eruption of applause from her punters.

Pressing her forehead to Sofia’s Nell spoke softly for only her lady to hear…

“Yes., how can I say no to a woman that downs a pint like that.”

“I’m actually feeling rather nauseous. How’s my game face?”

“Green.” Nell warmly smiled.

“Tell me you have a sick bucket behind that bar.

Nell could only laugh loudly…

…

3 MONTHS LATER….

Three days were spent at the Blancheford estate dealing with matters of state, and for the rest of the week, Sofia discovered she was quite the formidable barkeep. Running a pub with Nell, she’d never imagined her life would take such a turn. Of course, the place was to undergo a facelift. Slowly but surely, Sofia brought the many pots, pans, treasures and fine art pieces into the Tollbrook Pub.

“That really needs to be out of direct sunlight.” Sofia grimaced as a local sought to hang a priced Carracci on the wall. The place was really starting to come together. Word got around of the refit, and nationwide publicans came to take ideas from Sofia and Nell's back-alley marvel.

“Babes, calm down.” Nell sought to quell Sofia’s typical need to give orders.

“I do wish you wouldn’t call me babes before our underlings…sorry, before - our staff.” Sofia stopped herself mid-sentence. Nell frowned, teaching the Lady something akin to teamwork rather than dictatorships.

Sofia quirked a brow as she noted one of her many spell books clutched in the renegade’s hands.

“Why do you have that?” She sensed the renegade was up to no good.

Nell laid the book before Sofia, wiggling her brows suggestively as she read over the incantation.

“Absolutely not.” Sofia slammed the book closed.

“Come on, I didn’t mess it up this time.” Nell encouraged

“Do you really think I will receive you with one of those ghastly-looking things wafting about between your thighs?” A slight tremor in her tone, an indignant lady Wilmot folded her arms.

A cheeky smile pulled at the corner of the renegade's handsome features. A nervous Sofia, with each passing day they spent together, Nell Jackson learned to decipher the unspoken from her obstinate Lady.

“You’re free to alter your body as you please, albeit temporarily. What you do with…little Nell is neither my concern nor interest. I told you I don’t like…those things.” Sofia gestured to Nell's crotch.

“You might like mine.” Nell winked.

“I shan’t.”

“Give it a go at least.”

“I shan’t.”

“You sound chicken.” Nell teased

“And you sound desperate.” Sofia raised her jawline in a show of superiority.

The two had drawn closer. Nell had learned to conceal her intent in these nooks of silence between them. Sofia, she was too clever. Endlessly quick-witted with an ability to offer a catty rebuke or taunt from thin air. Nell, she had discovered patience. A raised brow and a lingering stare would quite often bring just the slightest wobble to her usually stern lady.

“What…whatever are you looking at?” Sofia blushed under Nell's wandering eyes.

Nell closed the gap between them, lowering her head slightly to try to find the ear of her shorter Lady.

“It’s wider than I thought, not just the impressive length. Feels heavier in my hand than I imagined an all. Might not get it inside easily, might have to push nice and firm from behind.”

Sofia gulped, the flesh on her lips suddenly akin to sand. A quick telltale flick of the tongue would offer moisture, but nothing compared to what suddenly pooled in her fine silk underwear.

“Nell…I.” Sofia stalled.

“It's alright, my love. I'm not asking you to help me move it. Rasselas is still out back”

“Pardon?” Sofia seemed confused.

“Raz”” Nell hollered. Forcing Sofia from her lustful trance.

“You alright? I’m talking about the piano from your place. Look lovely in that corner over there but shifting it will be a right ole bastard.”

Nell gently pushed by Sofia to greet Rasselas.

“I'll lift the other end if you get it from behind and give it a shove.”

A great smile pulled across her lips; Sofia was at a loss for words.

“You will pay for that, Nell Jackson.” Sofia casually strolled away from the laborious task as both friends struggled to move the solid wood instrument.

“See! Told you. She a big girl, gonna be one hell of a squeeze.” Nell teased in Sofia’s direction as she playfully grabbed her crotch, the Wiccan pausing her stride, her back still turned to her tormentor.

“Perhaps some lubrication is in order; I’m afraid I’ve just run out. Shame you didn’t use your time better earlier; I was …simply sopping with it.”

Rasselas groaned as Nell suddenly stopped lifting her side. The retreating Sofia took her attention.

“Not to worry though, I’m sure you’ll manage independently, Nell Jackson. Just try not to rub your wood dry.”

Nell set a wolfish glare upon Sofia's swaggering hips. Her ear tuned out the now muffled calls for help from Rasselas.”

“Brute force might be needed, but I feel something that large needs a feminine touch to get it where it needs to be.”

“Ta-ta.” Sofia offered a dainty wave, leaving Nell panting but not through the effort of shifting the grand piano.

“So help me, she's gonna fuckin get it.” Nell’s nostrils flared as always; Sofia had the final word.

“Nell, I think my foot is trapped. I can’t feel my toes.” Rasselas whined.

“Bloody Nora.” Nell sighed, quickly snapping out of it to help her friend.

Later that night,

The Tollbrook is busier than ever with new faces wandering in as word still spreads about the upscale public house.

Tucked into a private Booth, Sofia poured the Lady Moggerhanger another glass of red.

“I am simply stunned you got our lager lout Nell to agree to stock French vino! I have a friend who assures me he can ship the finest of Italian merlots from Milan - if you're interested?” Moggers raised a glass to Sofia, who seemed to be in a daydream.

“Do you think me less of a Lesbian if I say I quite like the idea of a cock on a woman?”

An eruption of fermented grape escaped the mouth of a wide-eyed Moggers.

Choking, she managed to regain her voice quickly.

“A ... a what on a woman! Dear Lord, are such things possible?”

“Anything is possible with Magic; there is always a price to pay though. A fee, the mystic arts is rather a transactional relationship, I'm afraid, between it and The Witch.”

“My dear, complicated child...take a step back. You...you would want a woman to …. have a penis?”

“Oh. My god. Please don’t say that word.” Sofia dry heaved.

“See. I’m afraid you're not giving me the impression you like cock and balls, Miss Blancheford.”

“It's Lady Blancheford...and I don’t.  They are vile-looking, offensive things that force the contents of my stomach to churn audibly.”

“Then why are we having this splendidly enticing conversation?” Moggers eyes gleamed with excitement and interest.

“Because perhaps on a woman it would be different? I don’t know. I've only had to endure one man, and his efforts, shall we say, were fleeting. He was much older than I and it was …

“Shrivelled, lopsided and without girth. Like jousting with a limp, soggy parsnip.”

“I was about to say not often I set my eyes on him nude. I rarely allowed him his way, and that was conducted in the dark, wearing as many layers of clothes as possible. I just lay there and …thought of England.

“Ha!...more like your serving girl.” Eularia downed the remainder of her glass.

“Indeed.”

“Are all Men so…. impenitent?” Sofia grimaced.

“Well, I’m not that experienced. I’m a lady after all.” Moggers declared as she belched.

“Of course, whoever would doubt it.” Sofia rolled her eyes.

Sofia’s attention was taken by Nell entering through the low doorway into the main bar. Moggers took note of the lingering gaze held between the two; only a fool would miss the cut and buzz of the electricity that charged the airwaves between them.

“Dare I say. Nell Jackson is most handsome Miss ...Sorry, LADY Blancheford, Those sporting thighs and plump buttocks, the slenderness of her hips and softness of her eyes. She simply worships you. I think sexuality is far more complicated than gender; real attraction is woven into nature and simply cannot be misdirected nor stopped. Does her pleasure please you?”

“Yes, without question” Sofia’s answer was immediate.

“Well, there you are then. Does it matter by what means you share pleasure?”

“No. It does not.” Sofia's eyes gleamed a shade of orange as her magic roared within.

“Also, Nell Jackson is dirt common. They’re always so well-endowed and fertile. I mean, look how the rat's breed, were surrounded by the dregs of poverty here, my girl.” Moggers gestured with her empty tankard.

“Another drink, my lady. A local kindly offered.”

“Oh, yes. How polite of you, commoner.”

“Nell’s private parts are more prominent and responsive than I have experienced before with women. Perhaps you are correct; she would no doubt be...impressive.” Sofia let out a breathy sigh.

“And you're VERY experienced. Not that I’m calling you a promiscuous harlot of devilry or anything. I'm sure a heated Nell Jackson pounding you with a substantial length and girth of GIRLCOCK still falls into the category of raging lesbianism.

“You think so?”

“I do. Now, go get a good smashing from your commoner. I expect to see you walking sideways tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, good grief.” Sofia blushed profusely.

“Tonight is your lucky night, Nelly Jackson. Eularia drunkenly called across the bar.