I'll Fight For You

The Farm Life

The sun beat down on her spine, making the sweat stained material of her shirt feel like a band of scorching hot metal clamping down on her, constricting the movement of her organs and causing her skin to swell with angry red, itchy and irritating blisters. The shirt chafed against her skin, making a scowl much like Lilith's own stretch across her face. She glanced over briefly at the other woman, who stood a few meters away, dressed in some shorts and a tank top, her tanned flesh blazing like a golden statue. She could've been one, too, expect for the fact that she was aggressively tugging carrots out of the vegetable patch as Beatrice watched on, dumbfounded, rake in hand as she stared at the mowed hay spread across the field. 

She knew that rakes lifted mowed hay from the swath and placed it in a loose windrow with the green leaves inside to protect them from the sun's rays, but she still felt incredibly useless. Camila had shown her how to operate the swather, but she had chosen to do it by hand instead, not trusting herself to man such a menacing machine. 

Lilith still didn't trust her either, not after her suspiciousness regarding the dead Beatrice. She had said she was from America, and had been studying English with some relatives in Bristol, resulting in her developing an accent. It was a well constructed lie, but Lilith's eyes still narrowed at her even after her wife had ushered her away when she looked ready to bite someone's head off. Beatrice knew that in her universe, she'd taught Lilith how to see through lies when they were kids in boarding school, and she wondered if the other Beatrice had to. 

She'd felt briefly guilty upon hearing the story about her parallel self, wondering if she didn't enter this universe, would the other Beatrice have lived? If she didn't enter this world and changed the equations of the space time continuum, fitting a new plot into the story, would that young girl have not killed herself to make room for her double in the future? Would fate have been kinder had she not come here? 

"Oi!" Lilith shouted in her face, spit flying from her mouth as she towered over the nun, her face beet red as she harshly poked Beatrice in the forehead. "Are you deaf or something, newbie? Don't just stand there, get back to work you blockhead!" 

"Oh, right," Beatrice mumbled, awkwardly shuffling so as to begin to sweep the produce into piles. Lilith watched her for a few moments, letting out the odd exasperated sigh, before angrily stomping off to continue tearing vegetables out of the earth. 

Beatrice would wish, hours later as she sat in the guest room that was surrounded by more plants―much like the room of the married couple she'd first woken up in―that she had asked to borrow some sunscreen as she sat there, awkwardly trying to rub aloe vera on her own back. She didn't realise that through all the hard labour, it would result in even more discomfort, more than she was feeling now as she stood to scoop the last dregs of hay into her first pile, the shirt chafing uncomfortably once more. She didn't know that her pale skin would be swatted with even more blisters and a bright red sunburn, resulting in a lack of hot showers for the rest of the week due to the agony of the wound. 

The next morning, the burn felt even worse. Beatrice sighed, twisting the cap of the ointment open, dragging her fingers through the gloop, hissing as the cold respite contacted the prominent ache of the burn. Camila had a wild scuffle with her wife when she found out about it, claiming it was Lilith's fault for not offering their guest any sunscreen. She definitely wasn't in the demoness' good book for the next week or so, but Camila certainly made up for it, bringing her cold drinks during her shift and even gifting her one of their spare hats to protect her scalp. 

By next week, the burn was barely visible, and she was back to being nobody. She wasn't even Camila's patient anymore, which sucked, because that was the only time she'd been able to talk to the other woman, considering that Lilith made sure to keep Beatrice away from her family, begrudgingly letting her sit at the table for meals. If she was being honest, Beatrice didn't blame her. Who would trust a stranger? Much less one from a parallel universe. 

On the weekend of the second week, the wives had their new worker run into town to do some shopping, promising to pay her extra at the end of the month. Since then, it had become a ritual of sorts. On weekdays, she'd do various chores around the farm, such as planting vegetables or ploughing the hay, sometimes even cleaning out the horse stables. On weekends, she'd be given a list and a fair some of euros, before she'd gallop into town atop the family horse, Peanut. 

Beatrice had met Peanut on her third week there. Lilith had been giving the horse a bath, instructing her assistant to hold the beast steady as she lathered the dirt stained fur with soap and water. Since then, the nun would spend most of her free time getting the creature to trust her, until at last, he was docile. Then, she had been aloud to start riding him. At first, both of her hosts were reluctant, until Beatrice had assured them that she'd been riding horses much bigger and far less tame than theirs since she was six. It was one of the only truths she'd told so far. 

Riding Peanut was one of her most relaxing pastimes. He had the softest coat, a coppery ginger in colour, his mane an often dishevelled white. When she finally left this universe, she knew she would miss the animal dearly, causing a pang of sickness to radiate in her heart at the thought. She pushed the thought aside though, as she demounted her steed and went to greet the various vendors in the market, buying milk, cheese, meat and other delicacies that would stored in the pantry until Sunday dinner. 

After Sunday dinner, which had consisted of smoky sausages, cheese and a scrumptious homemade trifle, Beatrice retired to bed. Her stomach was filled to the brim with fine food, the smell of the laundry detergent grounding her to the moment as she listened to the crickets chirping in the grass heavens below, an owl hooting in a tree nearby, Peanut answering its call with a faint neigh. It was all so, so simple that she almost forgot why she was even here. She almost forgot that this wasn't her home, that she was part of the Order, that she was hear for a greater purpose. 

She forgot until it happened. 

Having been granted back her habit and the Cruciform Sword, she was able to relax slightly, knowing that if Adriel and his army back home ever did find her, she was at least armed. Before dinner ever evening, she would jog around the farm, ending her circuit inside the barn, where she'd stretch for a few minutes before practicing strikes and defensive manoeuvres with the divinium weapon. It at least reassured her that she had a purpose, that she was powerful. In one way, anyhow. 

But one evening everything changed. So far, the sword hadn't pulsed blue since she'd picked it up before entering the portal, the weapon remaining a dull silver blade. This wasn't surprising, considering she had no angelic powers. But this evening, it did. Briefly, the blade sputtered back to life, before dying once more. Beatrice frowned, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. 

Then, suddenly, it sparked into life, causing her to yelp in awe and surprise. But mainly concern. She hadn't know what triggered the blade the first time it glowed in her grasp, nor did she know this time, because she certainly wasn't a halo bearer. The halo was with Adriel. At least back in her world, it was. Could things be different in this dimension? Even as she thought that, she knew it was ridiculous. There was only one halo, alternate universes didn't change that. 

Right?