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27, Letting Go

"Micah." Britta called, shaking him awake. "We're going today, remember?" She asked.

She heard him sigh in defeat, "How could I forget?" He asked, referring to the many times she'd reminded him. She laughed – her lover was not at all a morning person – and she lept up and rushed outside.

Mable was saddling up Fawn, and Thunder was already standing at attention. He was looking warily at Thom's gelding – Thom had made it through the trial and was coming with them as an armed guard. Britta had told Mable she was as good as an army, and Mable had agreed, but Britta hadn't missed Mables frequent glances at Thom throughout their week of preparation and hadn't protested at his joining.

Britta was a lot more excited than everyone else about going back to the abbey. At the same time, she was nervous; it had been over a year, and how would she tell them about Diana? Britta still spoke to her sister every night, but she was still dead, and she didn't know how to put that into words.

Finally, they were ready to go, and began the ride into the woods. Among other things Britta, or rather, Thunder, was carrying, there was a roll of parchment, signed by Mable, with a declaration which ensured the Abbey got better funding and that the money was spent on the orphans living there. There was another which ordered Mistress Core from the Abbey, which Britta hoped to use only as a last resort.

They also carried the news of the Emperor, and after stopping at the abbey, they would travel away from Weatherston and to other places which were too cut off to know everything already. Mable was travelling with them in order to get to know the lands she would one day rule and Britta had insisted she travel with her.

The track, which had been rebuilt over the summer, meant their journey lasted only a week. It was a week which Britta enjoyed; she hadn't before been so relaxed around people who weren't her twin and Mable seemed always to know when she wanted time alone with Micah and Britta did her best to leave Mable and Thom alone at times. Britta spent enough time with all of them to know that Mable was prepared for when she would one day become Empress and that Thom was becoming less cynical of noble life with Mable at his side.

Britta cheered when she saw the weathered wooden sign which read 'Weatherston' in letters which had once been painted with red paint. She brought Thunder around, one hand clutching the reins and the other gesturing for her friends to follow. She rode with an easy grace, dressed in men's clothes and at one with her new identity.

Britta felt her heart begin to pound as they entered the village. It was as she remembered it, houses crammed along narrow streets as much filled with farm animals as people going about their daily business. The stone wall at the edge of the Abbey came into view, none of the burly guards patrolling them. Britta wondered if they had been mountain men and sighed, a little disappointed she couldn't test herself against them. She sighed, no matter, the dedicates trained warriors as well as craftsmen.

"Stay here." She whispered to her friends.

Then, she backed Thunder up and nudged him into a canter. Speeding up, Thunder lept the wall and his hooves clattered up to the door. People stopped, orphans and dedicates alike looking at her in fear and wonder. Britta tossed out her curls, knowing full well she looked like a wild woman atop of Thunder and rather enjoying the attention.

She lept down from Thunder, knowing that people were realizing her femininity as her chest was unbound and her hair was down.

"Greetings." She called, addressing the crowd in the same way she'd seen her father do. "I am Princess Britta of Dereges," she had not yet used her title and it sounded strange to her. "Or, you know, Britta." She said. When her friends began pushing their way to the front, Britta stepped forwards and pulled them into a hug.