Someone was in trouble.

Gods, was it the Queen and the baby again? Hannah? Eric?

Fin tried to force his thoughts away from the splitting pain in his left side.

He clutched his forehead in agony as his thoughts raged hard against the static burning in his mind.

“Where should I go?! What should I…” Fin forced the images of every place he had been in the castle through his head to see if any of the images jumped out to him. He tried to hold the faces of those he cared for, when all of a sudden he knew.

Annika.

She was heading towards the rose maze from the forest.

Fin shoved the carving knife into its sheath at his side and took off at a sprint.

Miraculously, as he ran no one saw him, but as he neared the halfway point to the entrance of the maze, he looked over his shoulder instinctively. Fin could see a small hooded figure he knew had to be Lady Jenoure approach the exit of the maze in the distance. She was stumbling, and periodically doubling over as she hastened towards her destination. As the witch squinted, he could see some kind of flurry behind her in the trees. As she neared the thorny hedge, he reached his hand out, lightning springing from his fingers as he cut a small clearing for himself to dart through. He could hear the faint panting of Lady Jenoure coming from another hedge a few turns away from Fin, as he sought to reach the centre to intercept her. The witch immediately ran forward upon hearing her, only to hit a dead end. He could no longer hear her.

He cursed softly as he then heard the footfalls of Annika’s pursuers in the distance.

The witch darted back the way he came, took a left instead of a right, and once again could hear Annika’s rasps. He looked at the thorny hedge in front of him, and in a moment of desperation, mentally screamed at the hedge to unfurl for him. He didn’t want to burn it and show her attackers where she was.

To his surprise, the hedge obeyed right as her black cloak fluttered into view. Without another thought, Fin wrapped his arms around her and spun her back through the hedge swiftly before she could react, the thorny leaves already beginning to furl closed. The roses were unhappy that he had forced his will upon their thorns- but he didn’t have time to feel shock over sensing them.

Fin’s hand already covered Annika’s mouth when he felt her stiffen, his body was shielding her smaller form with his own. They could hear her pursuers stomp past where she had been moments before.

“She can’t have gone far. Not with that wound in her side. Let’s split up.” The man’s voice was gruff and breathy as he addressed his followers.

Meanwhile, Fin was doing his best to keep his own quick breaths quiet. When he gazed down into Annika’s pale upturned face, her dark eyes were wide as she then registered who had grabbed her.

They shared a moment of silence as they heard the feet of the men grow momentarily distant.

“Can you get to the kitchen?” Fin whispered, his voice slightly hoarse.

Annika’s eyes flitted to the dead end of the hedge, then to the turn where one of her pursuers were bound to appear at any moment.

“I don’t know that I can carry you, but lean on me best you can,” he instructed softly.

Despite not hearing an answer, the cook led Annika towards the burned opening in the hedge. Holding onto her hand, Fin managed to guide her through, and set them off at a brisk walk with him supporting her weight while heading back to his kitchen.

Rain began to spittle down on them, but as they reached the corner of the castle, the deluge that had threatened to come for days finally broke upon them. They were only a few steps from his kitchen regardless, but they were both soaked in a matter of seconds before the duo entered the castle through the garden door.

Once in the warm confines of the kitchen, Fin immediately enchanted both of the doors locked, and double-checked that his spell to stop onlookers peering in through the window was intact. He felt momentarily bad about his aides being stuck in the downpour, but then again he was quite certain that Annika was in no shape to lie to them about her astonishing apparel and state of wellbeing.

He managed to seat her on the ledge by the window where he would get the best light to check the wound, and observed that neither pursuers were up for discussion.

Stepping back with his hands on her shoulders and enraptured by her lack of expressions, the witch was only mildly surprised to find the Lady studying him as well while looking more than a little stunned.

“I heard them mention an injury, where-”

“It’s nothing! I can go to my room and-” Annika twisted towards the kitchen door to the castle but gave a small yelp. The pain made her clamp her mouth shut and visibly wince as Fin slowly but firmly kept her seated.

“Where?” Fin asked again, but more gently.

“Left side. The ass got me while I was fending off the other three.” She grimaced as Fin gently removed her cloak. The witch quickly noticed the blood dribbling around her fingers as she clutched her side. His panic, rage, and worry exploded in his chest. His face must’ve morphed into a troubling visage, because with her other hand- also caked in blood, she gently touched his cheek.

“It’s okay. It won’t kill me.” She whispered softly while hoping to soothe some of his apparent anguish.

Fin ignored her, and lifted her hand from the wound to inspect its depth.

After kneeling on the ground and gently swiping away some of the blood that had already slowed its flow, Fin could see that she had been right. The wound was not life-threatening, but she still needed to be stitched.

“I need you to lie down on my cooking table so that I can sew you up.” He explained, raising his gaze to hers.

“You know how to do that?” Annika whispered, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“My mother was a healer, I helped periodically.” He explained shortly, helping her to her feet and guiding her over to the table that still had the lunch preparation sitting out.

Fin’s eyes fluttered, and the table stacked beneath the cooking table levitated out, and cleared itself. The meal and all the prep drifted over to its surface, and a wet soapy cloth from a nearby bucket wiped it down in a matter of minutes. All the while Fin did nothing but support Annika, and will it to happen.

The witch then gently pressed his fingertips to the table’s surface, and Annika watched amazed as the dampness left over from the cleaning immediately evaporated.

“Handy skills you have.” She murmured with a small grunt, as Fin helped her up before turning back to his kitchen.

He found the needle he used for stitching up the roasts and some threads that would have to do.

It wasn’t until he turned to her after sterilizing the needle, that he realized he would need her to lift her tunic to accomplish his task.

She must’ve figured out what had him frozen because she smiled ruthlessly.

“Never seen a woman’s side before?” She teased, staring at the stone ceiling of the kitchen.

“I… I’m sorry. I have to lift your top partially to mend you,” the witch was the color of tomatoes.

Annika laughed, but winced slightly, snapping Fin out of his stupor. Without thinking, his hand shot out and gently rested atop her silky black hair that was tied back in a sleek ponytail. Fin gently rubbed his thumb over her forehead and hairline.

“Do you want something to bite down on while I do this?” he asked apologetically.

“Fear not. I’m always prepared.” When he realized then that he was touching her, the witch dropped his hand to the table. He still didn’t let it fully fall back to his side however…

With a fleeting look of disappointment that Fin was relatively certain he had imagined, Annika procured her flask from the pocket of her trousers. After she took several gulps of the Troivackian moonshine, she nodded at him to signal her readiness, her composure never wavering.

“You look more troubled about this than I am. Trust me, I’ve been in worse scrapes than this.” She said jovially.

“Who did this to you?” Fin’s question came out quietly as he studied Lady Jenoure’s good-natured façade.

The Vicountess’ expression immediately sobered.

“Troivackians that came with my brother. I don’t know how many of my informants he may have found, but my brother apparently doesn’t know it’s me yet. He has his suspicions is my guess, but the men didn’t see my face. Three of them are dead in the woods. I’ll have to hunt down the last two once you finish up with me here. So could we please get this started?” She added impatiently as her mind fixated on the unpleasant task ahead of her.

“You’re going to… there are three bodies in the woods?!” Fin’s shock snapped her eyes to him. She studied the cook with an unreadable expression, her face immediately masked.

“It was them or me. Is that a problem?” Her tone was cool, and her eyes took on a deadened shade of dark brown that made Fin stare down at the Lady with faint remorse and disgust.

Annika felt her stomach churn sickeningly at witnessing the cook's reaction to who she truly was.

She turned, her face composed, her nerves fortified. She refused to let him see how disappointed she was.

“Who is it that made you become this?”

Annika lost her composure when her head snapped back and she saw that Fin’s expression hadn’t changed.

She had misunderstood his reaction to her words.

He was disgusted that her past had required her have to resort to such callous methods. Somehow… it was clear to her then that that was what he had meant.

“Troivackia is a brutal place. Especially for women. However, my grandfather recognized I was the only one of my father’s children who had a knack for deception and he took me under his wing, albeit reluctantly. He was one of the most skilled spies of the kingdom,” she explained while trying desperately to school her features once again.

Fin slowly began to roll up her tunic. His hands were hesitant as he did so, but he figured it would be better while Annika was distracted to start sewing her wound closed.

The plan backfired quickly when he failed to continue asking questions. Instead he fixated as inch by inch, Annika’s smooth, naturally tanned skin appeared under his hands. He pretended not to notice the goosebumps rising on her skin, and genuinely failed to notice the blush on her face when he finally came to the wound.

It spanned perhaps four inches, and upon further inspection, Fin was relieved to see that it didn’t look to be deep enough to have hit any of her organs.

“See? Not that bad.” Annika declared as Fin gingerly pierced her skin with the needle. He could tell she was trying to get him talking again to distract herself from the pain. Her entire body had turned rigid, and he became instantly worried that he would have to tie her down to finish the job.

“It would seem Lady Jenoure, that you and I have become each other’s nursemaids these days.” He said slowly, not moving the needle until her body had relaxed into faint trembling.

“That a problem?” Annika demanded, a little too breathily.

“Well I suppose I prefer you than Mr. Howard.”

“I heard that rumor about him and Peter- I must confess, quite a few of the noble Ladies here in the castle are quite taken with the notion.”

Fin resumed his work then, lacing two stitches before pausing to give Annika a rest. She was already sweating profusely.

“The Ladies?!” Fin paused his work to laugh. “I thought it was solely the maids. Gods, he is going to murder me.”

“You started it?!” Annika laughed then gasped in pain at having done so, which instantly ceased all of the redhead’s humor.

“Well it was originally about me and Mr. Howard, but I may have… redirected it a bit," the witch admitted with a hestiant smile.

The cook could tell Lady Jenoure was physically fighting the urge to laugh as he tried to finish another two stitches hastily.

“I’m surprised you-” Annika took in a sharp breath and Fin once again found his body responding on its own accord, as his right hand snatched her own. The witch let her squeeze his bones until they neared their breaking point.

“I’m surprised you knew I was in trouble.” Fin released her hand after a moment to resume his work.

“I can sense when someone is in extreme pain, terror, or danger if they are in my home," the redhead explained as he worked his way towards the end of her wound, unaware of the sweat coating his brow.

“Why didn’t you go to save Peter then?” There was a strange note of uncertainty in Annika's voice that Fin found himself quick to address.

“Peter was attacked on his way back up to the castle after visiting the village one evening.”

“You two aren’t… I mean are you…” Fin completed two more stitches, and noticed that adrenaline or shock must have kicked in, because Annika had stopped seizing up.

He failed to notice the apprehensiveness in her voice as she hinted at his sexuality.

“I am definitely not gay,” he answered while refusing to look at her.

‘Which is why you should be a little more self-conscious of allowing me to see anymore of you than is appropriate.’ Fin thought to himself as he knotted off the last stitch and immediately straightened.

When he gazed down into Annika’s face she remained unreadable to him, which somehow made him smile.

“You must be a fantastic spy, I cannot glean anything from you and I just sewed you up.” Fin slid his hand gently under her back and slowly helped her to sit up without agitating the stitches. The Viscountess stayed seated on his table while slowly allowing herself a moment to adjust.

“Oh I am. I can be the seductress,” Her expression morphed into one of sultry teasing. “Or the timid dutiful woman,” Her eyes dropped and she curved her shoulders ever so slightly, her mouth drawn down almost in a look of pained shyness. “Or the dullard.” Her face became vacant as her mouth hung open slightly and her eyes went out of focus.

Fin let out a small chuckle before he gently tugged at the collar of her tunic.

“In my kitchen, I want only your honest expression.” He smiled warmly down at her.

Annika’s eyes snapped to his, her mouth closed, and she swallowed.

She was staring at him, her face a mixture of nervous anticipation.

“Who are you trying to be now?” Fin teased, his eyes glowing as he gazed down into her brown eyes that suddenly shone.

She still looked pale after having been stitched up, but some color was beginning to rush to her cheeks.

“I—I-I’m…” Annika’s expression was searching his, when something in her gave way. She moved too quickly for him to do anything to stop her.

She grabbed the front of his tunic and pulled him to her.

Then, she kissed him.