"Stand And Deliver!", Chapter Sixteen
Summary: In the dramatic conclusion to our story, Nyssa has been sentenced to death, and is currently waiting for the hangmans noose. Will Vicki, Benton and Lethbridge-Stewart be able to circumvent Finch's decision? Will Tegan be able to make it to London in time? Will Tegan and Nyssa ever be able to express their true feelings to each other? All the questions and more shall be answered so, dear readers, please continue on this final leg of our journey…
~~~~~~~~~ Read on AO3.
~~~~~~~~~
Nyssa now knew when her execution had been arranged for.
It was that evening.
Surprisingly, she found herself calm about the matter. However, her actions immediately following this announcing was having a very different effect on proceedings in one of the rooms on the floor above.
‘Just to recap, sergeant,’ Finch said, very slowly. His eyes flash dangerously. ‘She asked for what?’
The sergeant swallowed quickly, before answering. He was a red-faced man, as many sergeants tend to be. Middle-aged, slightly balding and with a paunch typical of men in his role, he was -in effect- one of nature’s sergeants. If he hadn’t ended up in this profession, his career would have likely been that of a butcher or baker. Really, any role that seemed to require a tendency to sweat even on cold nights and a large, almost innocently oblivious, face.
‘Letter-writing materials, sir.’
Finch glowered.
‘Why?’
‘I believe she wishes to write to her father, sir.’
‘I know that!’ Finch snapped. ‘What I mean is; why is she even asking this of us in the first place?’
‘W-well…’ the sergeant floundered.
He didn’t regard himself as an unkind man, even if he wasn’t a particularly intelligent one. Something about the daughter of a clergyman being executed felt very wrong to him, and Miss Traken had been incredibly polite to all of the guards. Even old Charlie with his dodgy leg. She’d never even turned her nose up at the food.
‘Seems unfair not to let her, sir.’
Finch sucked in a breath through his teeth. It reminded the sergeant of tales of dragons just before they breathed fire.
‘Unfair?’ Finch said, very softly. ‘Miss Traken is to be executed for murder, and you think it’s unfair not to give her writing materials?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the sergeant replied. He was an honest man, as well.
‘I see.’
‘I’ll get on with that, then, sir,’ the sergeant said, quickly saluting. ‘Thank you for-‘
‘Not so fast, sergeant!’
The poor man stopped, with one foot in the air. He looked rather like a rooster that was worried it was laying an egg.
Finch glowered again.
‘You already supplied the materials to Miss Traken, didn’t you.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Finch sat back in his seat, and raised a hand to his temple.
‘Of course. Carry on, sergeant; that will be all.’
The sergeant beat a hasty retreat, shutting the door quickly behind him. He headed down the stairs into the cellar, picking up the small envelope left on the guards desk. Boots gently tapping against the stone floor as he walked, the sergeant made for Miss Traken’s cell, and knocked.
‘Please come in.’
The sergeant unlocked the door.
‘Here you go, miss,’ said the sergeant, as he passed the final envelope through the door. ‘The lads also managed to find some stamps for you.’
Nyssa smiled.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she replied, with a curtsey. ‘You are all too kind.’
The sergeant waved a hand airily.
‘Only right, what with…’
The man swallowed.
‘I think my father will appreciate my letter,’ said Nyssa. ‘Thank you, sir.’
The sergeant blinked quickly.
‘I’m sure he will, miss.’
Nyssa looked at him.
‘Do you have a daughter, sir?’
The sergeant nodded, swallowing.
‘Yes, miss; she’s getting married in the spring.’
Nyssa smiled, kindly.
‘Please extend to her my congratulations. One of my friends back in the village is getting married soon; I should write a letter to her as well.’
The sergeant nodded.
‘Will do, miss. I’ll… I’ll let you to it, then.’
The sergeant closed the behind him, and turned the key in the lock. As he stomped back along the corridor towards the guards table, he continued to blink quickly.
‘Bad business,’ he mumbled. ‘Bad…’
He sat down at the desk, and put the key away in a drawer. He wearily leant back.
Poor young lady. She didn’t seem like a murderous villain at all.
Unlike the soldiers who had overseen the trial, the guards stationed in the building were not Finch’s men. Rather, they were simply employed by the local military, and were attached to the militia-house itself.
Now, the sergeant wasn’t much for intelligence, but he was a social animal. He knew how his men thought, and he knew that none of them felt comfortable about the young lady having such a horrific sentence placed upon her head. It didn’t seem right at all.
‘Guard change-‘
The sergeant startled at the sudden noise.
‘Sorry, sarge,’ the young private said, looking away. ‘Didn’t mean to-’
‘S’alright, lad,’ the sergeant said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. ‘Ours not to reason but… poor Miss Traken.’
The private nodded. He was carrying a tray with some sandwiches on it.
‘Cook’s making her some beef stew for this evening; we all thought she might like a more filling meal this time.’
‘Good lad,’ the sergeant said.
‘Er… your Mary’s around Miss Traken’s age, isn’t she?’
The sergeant nodded, as he stood up.
‘Aye,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you to your shift, lad.’
‘Righto, sarge.’
The older man ascended the staircase, heading for the kitchen.
‘Bad business, this,’ he murmured. ‘Bad business…’
*
Nyssa did feel a little guilty for misleading the sergeant.
Well, admittedly, she was going to use the materials to write letters, that was true. But she also knew that playing the role of “sweet daughter of a clergyman” may help her in the long run. After all, who knew what allies she might need.
And the sergeant was a genuinely sweet man; unlike the soldiers at the trial, the men at the militia-house had been kind to her, in their way. She’d been given a couple of books to read to pass the time, and she suspected that they were giving her larger portions of food that was usually given to prisoners in these circumstances.
In that case, once the young private had given her the tray of sandwiches, she was left alone to her own devices. She began again to work at the loosening brick under the main bar of the window.
Using one of the writing tools she’d been given, she had been able to file the spoon down into more of a point, so much the better for removing the mortar around the brick.
*
‘What do you mean, he’s too busy?’
Lethbridge-Stewart glowered at the man seated behind a desk. He was stood in the main headquarters of the London Militia, based in the confusingly-named City of London, which contained the old Roman city. After hours of trying to find the right people to speak to, Lethbridge-Stewart had ended up here.
The man shuffled the papers around on the desk.
‘With respect, sir, our commanding officer is a busy man. It’s entirely possible he hadn’t even read your letter yet.’
‘It’s important business!’
‘So is everything that arrives in a letter for him,’ replied the man. ‘London is a very busy place, sir.’
‘Good heavens, man!’- Lethbridge-Stewart slammed his hands down on the desk- ‘An innocent young woman is going to be hung this evening!’
‘I’m sorry to hear it sir, but unfortunately you feelings on the matter weigh about as much as mine do on how long a response can take; not a great deal.’
Gritting his teeth, Lethbridge-Stewart took his hands off the desk and tried to compose himself.
‘Is there no other way of expediating this? I am deeply concerned that a senior member of the militia has presided over a sham trial wherein a young woman was condemned to death; surely, that is an important matter?’
The younger man looked up at him. He tapped his fingers on the desk, before nodding.
‘I’ll see what I can do, sir; I might be able to grab your letter out of the pile and see if another high-ranking officer can look at it.’
‘Thank you,’ Lethbridge-Stewart said, letting out a short breath of relief. ‘Please contact me with any updates.’
‘Will do, sir.’
A while later, Lethbridge-Stewart arrived back at the militia house where Miss Traken was being held. He headed downstairs, intent on informing the young woman with the good news.
However, he didn’t need to reach her cell because she was already led along the corridor by the sergeant.
‘What is happening? The sentence isn’t due to be carried out until-’
‘We’re just moving Miss Traken to another cell, sir,’ replied the sergeant. ‘The wall of the cell she was staying in is starting to crumble, so we’re taking her out while the mortar gets repaired.’
‘Oh.’
Miss Traken looked glumly at the older man.
‘Thank you for your concern, sir,’ she said, quietly. ‘You are very kind.’
Following Miss Traken and the sergeant along to another cell, Lethbridge-Stewart had a moment to compose his thoughts.
Miss Traken placed her letter-writing materials on the small bed set next to the wall. Lethbridge Stewart remained standing, but leaned in slightly, so that only Miss Traken could hear him. If the sergeant heard him, he didn’t do so much as raise an eyebrow.
‘I have sent letters to the London militia authorities regarding your circumstances,’ he said, quickly. ‘As well as to the queen.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Miss Traken said.
Lethbridge-Stewart nodded, and left the cell, walking along the corridor before coming to a stop next to the guard’s desk. The sergeant finished locking Miss Traken’s cell and sat down behind the desk, slipping the key away into a drawer.
‘She’s a very kind young woman,’ the sergeant said, quietly. ‘I can’t deny that me and the lads are despondent about her situation.’
‘Any person with a heart would be, sergeant,’ Lethbridge-Stewart replied, before leaning closer and lowering his voice. ‘Do you know much about the sentence itself? How long Miss Traken will have?’
‘Most hangings tend to happen during the day, sir, so I’m baffled as to why this one is happening in the evening. We’re due to bring her out of her cell around 6pm.’
Lethbridge-Stewart scratched his chin thoughtfully.
‘No doubt it’s at an awkward time for a reason; to prevent any further delays, I’d expect.’
There was a pause.
‘Sir…’ the sergeant said, quietly. ‘If Miss Traken was to be safely hurried away, how would that happen?’
Lethbridge-Stewart smiled.
‘I can’t move against Finch yet until I have some higher authority in the militia backing me. But rest assured I will give you a signal; any help would be appreciated.’
‘You have my word, and that of the lads too.’
‘You have a good unit here, sergeant; of good men and of fine character.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
*
Vicki and Benton leapt out of the coach.
The scaffold has already been erected in the centre of the square.
‘No, no, no…’
They both broke into a run, pushing through the crowd and charging towards the militia house. But, as they arrived, the front doors opened, and Nyssa appeared, flanked by two very miserable-looking guards.
‘Miss Nyssa!’
The young woman smiled unsteadily at them.
‘Hello. Vicki, if you could be so kind as to give my father this letter,’ she said, pressing an envelope into Vicki’s shaking hands. ‘It also contains a letter to my brother, which I have asked my father to send on at the earliest notice.’
‘B-but…’
‘Please don’t shed tears over me, Vicki,’ Nyssa said, kindly. ‘You have been a good friend to me. If… if I had ever had a younger sister, I would be very proud if she grew up to be you.’
Tears were now streaming down Vicki’s cheeks. She darted forward and pulled Nyssa into a hug. The older woman seemed to pause for a moment, before putting her arms around the girl and squeezing her tightly. The guards did not object, instead looking away and blinking quickly, their adams apples bobbing as their swallowed.
Vicki couldn’t stop sobbing. She knew that she probably looked a mess, but she found it difficult to care.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. This was no justice. This was legally-sanctioned murder.
‘Goodbye, Vicki,’ Nyssa said, very softly.
‘Goodbye, Miss Nyssa.’
‘Mister Benton,’ Nyssa said, blinking quickly as she pulled away from Vicki, and passed another letter into his hands. ‘I also have a letter here for the villagers. One for Ben and Polly. One for Mr and Mrs Jovanka. And… and one for Tegan.’
Benton’s eyes were already sparkling with tears as he nodded.
‘We won’t ever forget you, Miss Nyssa,’ he said, very softly. ‘We’ll always remember the good that you did. And Tegan certainly won’t.’
‘Thank you,’ Nyssa said. ‘I wish… well, the letter says everything I wished for.’
‘I’m… I’m afraid it’s time, Miss Traken,’ said the sergeant, coming to stand by her.
‘Very well, then,’ Nyssa said. ‘Thank you, sir; you and your men have been so kind to me these last few days.’
‘All part of our duty, Miss.’
The sergeant looked like he was trying to fight back tears. So did the young guards. One led Nyssa towards the scaffold, while the other stayed with the sergeant.
‘This is wrong, sarg,’ he said.
‘I know, lad. I know.’
Vicki and Benton exchanged a miserable look, and pushed their way through the crowd to the front.
Nyssa ascended the stairs.
The crowd stared in silence. Vicki had never been to a public execution before (her father had always found them deplorable) but she had assumed that the crowds attending them were normally eager to watch the grisly proceedings. However, this crowd was not. Everyone looked grim and despondent. Several women were crying, holding onto husbands, sons and fathers. A young girl was holding tightly onto her older sisters hand, eyes wide with fear.
This was wrong, and everyone knew it.
‘Hello,’ Lethbridge-Stewart said, having appeared between Benton and Vicki leaned over.
‘Sir, were you able to-’
‘It isn’t much,’ he said, in hushed whispers. ‘But the men of the militia-house have given their word that, if any orders come from above, they’ll join with me to stop the proceedings.’
‘And if no such orders come?’
Lethbridge-Stewart didn’t reply.
‘Sir; we can’t just-’
‘I know, Benton,’ the older man said, with a sigh. ‘But this is all I could do. Without proper authority, I can’t act against the sentencing.’
Vicki and Benton exchanged forlorn looks.
‘So… what you’re saying is… Miss Nyssa will likely…’
‘Her sentence will likely be carried out, yes. May God help us.’
‘I don’t think God is having much input in our current situation,’ Vicki replied, blinking back tears. ‘This is wrong; that trial was a sham!’
‘I know, Miss Pallister,’ Lethbridge-Stewart replied, eyes dull and weary. ‘I know.’
Vicki looked around, cursing her short stature; so many of the crowd were far taller than her.
‘Where’s Finch?’
‘Stood over by the scaffold,’ Benton said, looking out of the corner of his eye from his better vantage point. ‘He’s got several of his own men with him.’
‘How many?’
‘Seven. That’s about the same number as the men from the militia house,’ Benton replied, brow creased in concentration. ‘If we could somehow surround them-’
‘But what about higher orders-’
‘Damn higher orders,’ Benton said, very quietly. ‘I will not stand by and let Miss Nyssa be murdered. We just need a distraction; this crowd is like a pan of water about to boil. Once we get the first blow in, the confusion will be strong enough that we can rescue Miss Nyssa.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because we don’t have any other options,’ -Benton’s normally placid eyes flashed with a righteous anger- ‘And I’ve had about as much as I can stand from Finch and his sort.’
All remaining noise in the crowd faded, as Nyssa ascended onto the scaffold. She stared out at the crowd, and gave a small nod of the head, acknowledging the sad faces looking up at her. She then climbed up onto the small stool that had been placed beneath the noose.
The noose was placed around her neck by one of Finch’s men, and a blindfold was placed over her eyes. Nyssa gave a swallow, and took a breath, trying to steady herself. She had said her prayers earlier, but suddenly her mind was strangely blank. She did not have any regrets, aside from… well, that she had never been able to tell Tegan. But she supposed that it was not meant to be.
Her heart ached as she thought of her family and friends back in the village. Of Ben and Polly, whose wedding she would never see. Her brother, who would never see her again. Her father, who would grow steadily older with the knowledge that his only daughter was dead. And… and Tegan, who she had shared one wonderful night with before everything had collapsed around them.
Nyssa closed her eyes behind the blindfold.
Vicki was unable to tear her eyes away. Finch raised a hand, instructing one of the soldiers to kick away the stool.
SWOOSH
An arrow flew through the noose, cutting it from the frame of the gallows. The sudden movement caused Nyssa to flinch, the blindfold coming loose from her eyes as she fell sideways, the limp noose fluttering in the wind.
Every eye in the crowd darted around.
‘Look!’ Benton exclaimed, pointing at a rooftop directly across the square from the gallows, where a figure was stood -illuminated by the lights of the street below- atop the building, a long black cloak streaming behind them in the wind and a bow clutched in their hands.
‘The Phantom!’ exclaimed Lethbridge-Stewart.
The masked figure pointed an accusing finger at the man who had sentenced Nyssa to death.
‘You haven’t been doing your job properly, Finch!’
Another arrow hit the top of the gallows. A rope was attached to it, the other end tied around the chimney of the high building.
The masked figure attached a metal device to the rope. As the crowd let out a whoop, the highwayman kicked off from the side of the building, soaring down over the assembled people, cloak streaming out behind them, like an avenging angel sent from above.
‘Guards!’ exclaimed Finch. ‘Arrest that man!’
Two of Finch’s men hurried onto the gallows stage, just in time to meet the Phantom.
However, they had not reckoned on the sheer momentum that the highwayman was gaining as they rapidly descended the rope towards the scaffold. The Phantoms boot-encased feet caught the men squarely in the chests, sending them flying back off the stage and crashing to the ground.
Using the momentum, the Phantom landed, rolling neatly to prevent injury. A moment later, they had risen to the feet and hurried across to where Nyssa was laying, eyes wide.
Behind the mask, Nyssa could make out two very familiar brown eyes.
‘T-‘
‘No need to thank me, Miss Traken!’ said the Phantom, loudly, as they cut the ropes tying Nyssa’s hands with a flick of the small dagger they had pulled from their belt. ‘You have my sincere apologies for being caught in this. Speaking of which, where is the man so arrogant that he thought to incriminate a parsons daughter for highwayman activity?’
‘You infringe my honour, sir!’ shrieked Finch, pointing a quivering finger at the Phantom, who was now helping Nyssa to her feet. ‘Guards, arrest that highwayman and his accomplice!’
The Phantom gave a theatrical shrug, gesturing towards the crowd.
‘What an ignorant fool this man is,’ they exclaimed, with a chortle. ‘I was hoping it wouldn’t come to violence but I suppose… well, that this cannot be avoided.’
Nyssa promptly snatched up one of the guards discarded cutlasses from the ground.
‘Now!’ bellowed Benton. ‘You men, to me!’
The watchman vaulted over the barricade and, before anyone could think twice, punched Finch soundly in the face.
A great cheer went up from the crowd. Finch staggered, nose already beginning to bleed.
‘You’ll be court-martialled for this, Watchman!’
‘Yes, sir,’ Benton grinned, before punching Finch again, this time in the stomach. ‘Sorry, sir!’
Vicki looked around. Lethbridge-Stewart was urgently speaking to a messenger, who just handed him a letter. A brief few moments of reading later, the military man smiled.
‘Sergeant, you and your men move now! We have higher orders!’
The men of the militia house promptly fanned out, isolating Finch’s men who were stood nearby. Finch retreated up the steps.
The Phantom switched their blade to their other hand, and punched Finch in the face.
‘That,’ they exclaimed. ‘Is for Miss Traken!’
Nyssa lunged forward and also punched Finch in the face.
‘That was for me, as well!’
The man stared in shocked anger at them both. His nose was now bloody and starting to turn purple. Two of his men came to stand beside him, swords at the ready, while the others were fending off Benton, Lethbridge-Stewart and the guardsmen.
Nyssa and the Phantom engaged them in sword-fighting. Despite the events of the previous few days, Nyssa felt her pulse quicken as her usual reflexes kicked in.
The Phantom knocked one of the men backwards down the stairs.
‘Nice bit of excitement for the evening, eh?’
‘You don’t say!’ Nyssa replied, with a laugh, as she disarmed one of the soldiers, the man falling off the side of the scaffolding and onto a cart of vegetables.
Nyssa and the Phantom now stood side-by-side, parrying their swords against the soldiers.
‘Any plans for getting away from here?’ Nyssa said, under her breath.
‘Sort-of.’
‘Sort-of? You mean you jumped in without any plans of escaping-’
‘Bear with me a moment,’ -the Phantom disarmed their opponent, sending the poor man flying off the scaffold- ‘You see that arrow with the rope I swung in on?’
Nyssa darted a quick look above her.
‘Yes. What are you thinking?’
‘Follow my lead.’
The Phantom threw their sword up in the air, slicing through the knot that was keeping the rope tied to the arrow.
‘Grab it!’
Nyssa jumped and caught the rope in her free hand. The Phantom -catching their sword and clasping it back into their belt- duly leapt forward, wrapped a protective arm around Nyssa’s waist and charged towards the edge of the scaffolding.
‘Hang on tight!’
The world became a fast blur around them as Nyssa and the Phantom flew through the air, their momentum carrying them over the heads of the continuing fight between the militia-men led by Benton and Lethbridge-Stewart, and the military guards commanded by Finch.
‘I am relieving you of your command!’ Lethbridge-Stewart was exclaiming. ‘It seems as if your superiors weren’t impressed regarding your treatment of Miss Traken during the trial.’
‘Lies!’
‘Afraid not. I believe the phrase “court martial” was used in my orders!’
‘And serve you right, too!’ Benton added, as he disarmed Finch, knocking the man to the ground.
Nyssa and the Phantom landed a few hundred feet away, nearby one of the edge of the square. The two of them looked around.
A large assortment of heavy boxes -stood nearby- were held up by a winch, the rope heading several stories above them.
‘Oh,’ the Phantom murmured. ‘You have got to be-’
Nyssa promptly grabbed the Phantoms bow, and shot an arrow at the winch.
The two shot upwards, propelled by the weight on the other end of the rope, as the heavy boxes plummeted earthwards. The momentum was so strong, in fact, that they cleared the roof of the building, landing on the tiles a few feet away from the edge.
‘After them!’ shrieked Finch from below, before yelping. Presumably, Benton had got in another punch to the face.
The Phantom squeezed Nyssa’s hand and -to the cheers of the crowd below- hurried across the tiles of the roof. The building went back quite a way.
‘We need to get as far away from the square as possible!’ Nyssa exclaimed. ‘The crowd won’t hold up Finch’s men for long.’
‘Right.’
‘And how do you suppose we get down?’
‘At the moment, let’s just focus on getting clear away.’
The two leapt over a narrow gap between houses, Nyssa glad that she couldn’t see how far away the ground was.
They landed, and hurried forward again. However, they scrambled to a halt. The row of houses they were currently standing on top were set up a wider street. The Phantom looked around, and then darted sideways, hurrying along the row of houses to the edge.
The house at the end of the row was a story taller than the others, and had several windows. One of which was ajar.
‘Breaking and entering?’ Nyssa asked. ‘Is that a good idea?’
‘Nothing for it; in through the window.’
Nyssa squeezed through, and tumbled a half foot before-
She landed, and was surprised to feel a soft bed underneath her. The Phantom landed next to her.
‘I think we’re in someone’s flat.’
‘Oy!’ exclaimed a voice in the darkness. ‘It’s my night off!’
A candle was lit, and Nyssa was surprised to see that a young lady was sitting up in bed, a few feet away.
‘Er, sorry, miss,’ the Phantom said, removing the mask quickly and revealing Tegan’s face, flushed with exertion. ‘We didn’t mean to-’
‘Tegan?’ exclaimed the woman, eyes widening. ‘Why are you at Mrs Palms place, and why are you wearing trousers?’
‘Mary?’ Tegan said. ‘Talk about a coincidence; is this where you work now-’
The door opened. A large group of women hurried in. Nyssa was shocked to see that virtually all of them were wearing undergarments instead of usual nightclothes.
‘Mary, what’s going on? I thought it was your night off; what’s all the racket?’
‘Wait a moment,’ said an older woman. ‘Is that Tegan Jovanka?’
Tegan blinked.
‘Er, yes; hello, Mrs Palm.’
Nyssa’s face had turned a dark pink colour, as they both climbed off the bed.
‘Tegan,’ she whispered, pulling Tegan aside. is this a… house of sin?’
‘No,’ Tegan replied. ‘It’s a brothel, Nyssa. To be specific, it’s Mrs Palms.’
‘I- you- how-’
‘Mrs Palm is an old flatmate of my aunt. And Mary used to live nearby as well.’
Nyssa’s mouth opened and closed several times.
‘It’s not a big deal,’ Tegan continued, quickly realising that Nyssa -despite her nighttime adventures as a highwayman- was still a somewhat sheltered daughter of a clergyman. ‘People have to earn a living in the city, and Mrs Palm looks after her girls.’
‘And how do you know that, Tegan?’ Nyssa said, bristling. ‘I knew you lived in London but I didn’t think you’d be cavorting with-’
‘I’ve only ever “cavorted” with you, Nyssa,’ Tegan replied, squeezing Nyssa’s hand. ‘You know that.’
‘I…. yes,’ -the anger dimmed in Nyssa’s chest- ‘Sorry. That was… uncalled for.’
Tegan smiled.
‘Thank you. Now, I best check smooth this over with Mrs Palm. Bear with a moment…’
As Tegan hurried over to the group of women, Nyssa looked around. Mary had climbed out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
‘Who are you anyway? And why did you and Tegan climb in through my window?’
Nyssa decided it would be best just to answer the first query, to be on the safe side.
‘My name is Nyssa.’
Mary’s eyes widened.
‘The Nyssa?’
‘I… I beg your pardon?’
‘Good grief!’ Mary exclaimed, with a laugh. ‘So Tegan’s mysterious lady love finally appears in the flesh at last!’
Nyssa stared, uncomprehendingly, at her.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Oh, luv; Tegan mentioned you at least five times a week for the entire time she was in London! Don’t think she realised just how often she did, to be honest, or the way her voice was lilt when mentioning you.’
Nyssa’s eyes widened.
‘R-really?’
‘Oh, absolutely. Poor girl isn’t the most subtle, mind you, but I’m sure you don’t mind too much.’
Nyssa felt her face burn.
‘So, you don’t have any discomfort with...’
‘Yourself and Tegan being as lovers?’ Mary asked. ‘Are you kidding? Half the girls I know in London are that way inclined. Nah, we’re happy for you both.’
‘Thank you,’ Nyssa said, quietly.
‘So, how long have you and Tegan been…’
‘Er… w-well, we haven’t really had a chance to properly discuss it yet. Events got complicated rather quickly.’
Mary chuckled.
‘Yeah, that sounds about right. Properly best to chat about it the next time you get some time alone with her.’
Nyssa nodded, slowly.
‘I… I will try.’
Mary smiled encouragingly at her, before making a “shooing” gesture with her hands.
‘Now, all of you get out; it’s my night off and I wanted an early night.’
Mrs Palm and several of the women chuckled. Nyssa followed them all out of the room, and closed the door behind her.
‘Love the trousers, Tegan!’ laughed one of the ladies, trailing a hand up Tegan’s thigh. ‘Suits you, love!’
Nyssa bristled again. Striding forwards, she grabbed Tegan by the arm and pulled her away. The various assembled women restrained their giggles. By which point, Mrs Palm had reappeared from a cupboard nearby.
‘A disguise for Miss Traken,’ Mrs Palm said, handing a bundle of clothes over. ‘It’s some of my nephews old things.’
‘Er, thank you,’ Nyssa said. ‘They’re looking for the Phantom and Miss Traken. So I suppose they won’t be looking for Tegan Jovanka and a boy.’
‘Definitely not,’ Tegan said, with a wink at Nyssa, as the younger woman stepped into an empty room to switch clothes. ‘Wish my mother would get the hint, though.’
A few minutes later, Nyssa had changed into the shirt, trousers, boots and cloak. She gave a quick spin for Tegan’s benefit.
‘What do you think?’
‘Very convincing,’ Tegan chuckled. ‘Especially considering what I know what treasures you’ve got stashed away inside that shirt-’
‘Tegan!’
Tegan put an arm around the younger woman’s shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her flushing cheek.
*
Mrs Palm let them out a side door, wishing them well on their journey back to the village. Tegan had initially suggested heading to her Aunt Vanessa’s place, but that was so out of their way that it wasn’t practical.
‘I’ll let her know you’re safe,’ Mrs Palm said. ‘Don’t worry.’
‘Thank you,’ Tegan replied.
‘Yes,’ Nyssa added. ‘You’ve been very kind, Mrs Palm.’
The older woman smiled, and gestured at them to hurry away. The two young women gave a wave, and then hurried away.
‘Where now?’
‘Back to Pegasus, I would hope.’
‘You brought Pegasus?’
‘I couldn’t exactly get here without him. Anyway, I left him in an inn’s stables; hopefully… wait…’
Benton was stood a few feet away, Pegasus fidgeting slightly next to him. At the sight of Nyssa, the horse surged forward.
‘I missed you too, Pegasus,’ she said, softly. ‘You’ve been a wonderful friend.’
The horse gave a gentle whinny.
‘You’re a lifesaver, Benton,’ Tegan said, giving her friend a grateful hug.
The man smiled, with a shrug.
‘Is Lethbridge-Stewart still rounding up Finch and his men?’ Nyssa asked.
‘All sorted. Finch was being put in a guarded coach when I slipped away,’ Benton replied. ‘Thank goodness those orders arrived in time.’
Tegan helped Nyssa up onto Pegasus’s back and then climbed up after her. They both thanked Benton again, and then Nyssa snapped the reins.
London appeared as something as a blur as they wound through the dark streets, occasionally passing a dim light or a small fire. Before long, they reached the old city walls, and snuck through a gate that had been left open.
Pegasus galloped away, in the murky depths of the night, the lights of London fading behind. Tegan kept her hands around Nyssa’s waist, and let out a relieved sigh.
*
Tegan closed the door behind them. It had been a long ride back across the countryside and -with Pegasus almost exhausted and the rain getting steadily heavier- they had agreed to stop for a few hours in a barn nearby one of the roads heading across Sutton Common.
‘Well, at least we won’t get soaked to the skin,’ she said, turning around to face Nyssa. ‘Pretty sure this is the same barn we were in last time, actually…’
She trailed off. Nyssa had sunk to her knees.
‘Nys, what’s the matter?’ Tegan bounded forward and climbed down in front of her. ‘Are you injured? Good grief, I should have noticed, I’m sorry-’
‘I am the one who should be apologising.’
Nyssa’s voice was barely above a whisper. One of her hands reached out, squeezing Tegan’s fingers very softly.
‘Er… I beg your pardon?’ Tegan asked, flummoxed. ‘You apologise? Whatever for?’
Nyssa took a deep breath.
‘I should have told you that I was the Phantom,’ she said, blinking quickly. ‘I should have told you as soon as we started becoming close again after you returned to living in the village. I should have…’
‘Nyssa…’ Tegan said, softly. She took both hands and cradled Nyssa’s face. ‘You have nothing to apologise for, Nys. It was your secret; I had no right to know. It was only by chance that I realised-’
‘Y-you knew?’ Nyssa asked, eyes widening. ‘Since when?’
‘Er…’ -Tegan looked a little bashful- ‘Shortly after I kissed you on the cheek. You remember, after we got back to the courtyard at my parents inn? The night you rescued me from that highwayman?’
Nyssa blinked.
‘Tegan, that was several weeks ago!’
‘W-well… yes.’
Nyssa pulled back.
‘You mean to tell me that you knew about my secret the entire time we were sharing a room?’
‘I mean, me knowing was partially why I got caught up in that fight between you and Bloody Henry so-’
‘Tegan!’ Nyssa exclaimed, horrified. ‘You got run through with a sword!’
‘He was trying to kill you, love!’
‘That’s hardly a good reason to-’
‘That’s the most important reason,’ Tegan said, emphatically. ‘Listen, I kept quiet about your secret because I knew that, if you were ready, you’d tell me yourself at some point.’
Nyssa blinked at her, seemingly beyond words.
‘Oh, god- no- did I just make things difficult?’ Tegan stammered. ‘Listen, I really am very sorry that I realised about the Phantom, but I realised that your eyes were the same as his and-’
Tegan stopped talking abruptly because, at that moment, Nyssa grabbed her by the front of her blouse and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips.
Frozen for a moment, Tegan then melted against her, hands gently wrapping around Nyssa and holding her close. She didn’t kiss back nearly as fiercely, but Nyssa had enough passion for both of them at that moment. It was all Tegan could do to not pass out from heart failure.
Nyssa pulled away, leaving Tegan dazed and blinking.
‘I love you.’
The words were so sudden that the innkeepers daughter was left, mouth hanging half open as she fought to get her brain to engage.
‘Hhmfh?’
‘I love you, Tegan Jovanka,’ Nyssa said, eyes blazing with a fiery glow. ‘I love your kindness, I love your intelligence, I love your empathy, I love how you refuse to know your place, I love how you can’t ever seem to keep your mouth shut when something bothers you, I love that you keep saving my life without a second thought, I love how annoyingly well you fill my shirts, I love those lovely curls of hair around your ears, I love that you always stand up for those you care for… and I’m sorry that I’ve never told you any of this before.’
Tegan stared at her, large brown eyes agog, mouth hanging open.
‘You are the kindest, sweetest, loveliest person I’ve ever known,’ Nyssa continued. ‘And, if you’ll have me, I’ll be with you for as long as you want me. I’ll be with you for the rest of our lives if that’s what you want. I know I’m probably not the woman you originally thought I was but… I am yours, forever and always, Tegan.’
Tegan stared at her for a moment. And another. And another.
‘W-well?’ Nyssa said. ‘Are you going to reply, or are you just going to stare at me until we-’
Tegan fly herself at Nyssa and kissed her full on the mouth. This time, the fierceness was from her, and Nyssa melted against her, moaning slightly with ecstasy as Tegan deepened the kiss.
The kiss lasted for not nearly long enough, before Tegan eventually pulled away slightly.
‘Do you mean all that?’ Tegan whispered, against her lips, very softly. ‘Do you really, Nyssa?’
Nyssa nodded, breathlessly.
‘Then you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world,’ Tegan breathed. ‘Because I love you, Nyssa Traken. I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was. And -damn, Nyssa- I love every part of you; I love your intelligence, your humanity, your kindness, your hope. I love how your brow furrows when you’re thinking. I love those little bites you make on your lower lip when you concentrate. I love how damned attractive you look in those shirts. And I’ll continue to love you until my dying day. You have me, Nyssa, for as long as you want. I’ll be yours forever, if you so desire.’
Nyssa stared at her.
‘You mean that?’
‘Always will, Nys. Always will.’
Nyssa surged forward, and this time the kiss was nothing even close to chaste. Her lips met Tegan’s with a hunger -a fierce thirst- for the older woman. Her hands reached around Tegan, pulling her close. Tegan’s stomach dropped as she felt Nyssa’s bosoms press against her own, through the thin material of their shirts and Tegan’s stays. Heat sparked between her legs, and she let out a moan against Nyssa, who seemed to draw further strength from the reaction.
Before Tegan quite knew what was happening, the two of them had climbed to their feet, stumbling slightly as their kiss deepened further. Tegan’s back touched against the wall, Nyssa pushing her up against it. Their boots crunched against the dry hay.
‘Oh, damn…’ Tegan breathed, as one of Nyssa’s hands slipped down her back. ‘Nys…’
‘Tegan…’ Nyssa growled, her voice low and husky against the older woman’s lips. The last time Tegan had heard her name from Nyssa’s voice in that way had been that night, in what had seemed like a different lifetime, but had been less than a week before. ‘Tegan…’
Her hand slipped under the material of Tegan’s trousers, eliciting a small squeal. The other, which had been cupping the back of Tegan’s head, now slipped down, trailing down her neck and coming to rest on the top button of her blouse.
Another growl escaped from Nyssa’s lips.
A moment later, the blouse was open. Tegan gasped as she extricated her arms. The offending item of clothing was discarded over Nyssa’s shoulder. Tegan frantically began to work on Nyssa’s shirt, and it swiftly followed.
Their lips met again, the hunger building. The spark between Tegan’s legs was now a burning fire, spreading throughout her body. Her bosoms felt hot and heavy against her stays, and she could practically feel her skin becoming enflamed against the material of her trousers. More… more…
The two women fell sideways into the hay, kissing, hands wandering, breathing laboured. Their boots were frantically pulled off. The rainstorm outside cut them off from the outside world. Tegan’s hands slipped down Nyssa’s back and under the belt of her trousers. Fingers sinking into the soft flesh hidden below, Tegan felt the wondrously-familiar gasp of ecstasy escape Nyssa’s lips.
The trousers had to go. And Nyssa frantically pulled her belt undone, pushing the material of her trousers down her legs. Another kiss. Tegan’s belt was rapidly unfastened, and her trousers followed suit.
The hay against their skin was somewhat uncomfortable, but neither of them had any intention of moving away.
Tegan’s hands wandered around Nyssa’s back, before returning to her chest. Good grief…
Nyssa gave a giddy squeal at the cool touch of Tegan’s fingers, and then set to work on undoing Tegan’s stays, hands frantically undoing the ties. Every moment seemed like exquisite torture, but eventually the offending articles had finally been removed.
And, as Tegan and Nyssa finally joined together again, their world finally clicked back into position.
*
The reunion with Nyssa’s father had been very sweet. The poor man had practically burst into joyous tears as he hugged his daughter.
‘Blessed be this day!’ he exclaimed, tears streaming down his face. ‘My Nyssa; alive and well, and all charges cleared! Oh, how wonderful!’
‘I missed you, father,’ Nyssa said, crying just as much. ‘Tegan says you were so worried for me.’
‘Indeed!’ Tremas beamed, before turning to Tegan. ‘Thank you, Miss Jovanka, for bringing my daughter back to me!’
‘Don’t thank me,’ Tegan replied. ‘It was the Phantom who saved Nyssa; I was just lucky that I was in the city and happened to be passing when the Phantom’s horse charged past my aunt’s place.’
‘Nonetheless; thank you.’
Vicki watched, smiling happily. Nyssa shot her a small smile of gratitude; Vicki’s courage at defending Nyssa in that trial had been marvellous, despite Finch’s final decision. What a good-hearted, kind young girl; Ian and Barbara were so proud of her, and Nyssa completely understood why.
*
The reunion with Benton was not as tearful, but just as joyous.
‘Well done!’ Benton exclaimed, as he gave Tegan a hug. ‘That was fantastic, Tegan!’
‘Thanks, Benton,’ she replied, smiling. ‘Hopefully I didn’t cause too many administrative issues for you and Lethbridge-Stewart?’
‘Made things easier, actually; Finch is now facing a disciplinary and potentially a court-martial.’
Tegan and Nyssa exchanged a satisfied smile.
‘Serves him right,’ Tegan said, a little grimly.
‘Oh, Tegan…’
‘Benton, have you seen Miss Traken and Miss Jovanka, I-’
Lethbridge-Stewart entered the room, stopping in his tracks.
‘Benton, what are they doing?’
‘No law against women kissing other women, sir.’
‘Oh. No, I suppose not,’ the older man replied, blinking quickly.
Nyssa quickly extricated herself from Tegan and gave a curtsey.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, smiling. ‘You have been very kind to me.’
‘Least I could do, Miss Traken,’ the man said. ‘I must admit, I do feel responsible for bringing Finch down on your heads, given that he arrived in the village due to my report.’
‘Please do not,’ Nyssa replied. ‘You had completed your investigation; you were not to know that your superior would take a contradicting view on proceedings. So you have my thanks.’
‘Mine too,’ Tegan said.
‘Thank you both,’ said the man. ‘By the way; if the Phantom appears again, I would like to extend to him my thanks for his rescue of Miss Traken.’
‘I will pass that on to the Phantom if I see him,’ Nyssa said.
‘Thank you, Miss Traken. Speaking of yourself, I must congratulate you on your fortitude in the run-up to the attempting carrying-out of your sentence. You were very brave.’
‘Thank you, sir. And I appreciate your attempts to delay the carrying out for as long as you could.’
‘By the way… did you get a glimpse of the Phantom’s face during your escape?’
‘Er… I’m afraid not, sir; it was very dark and they had their mask on.’
Lethbridge-Stewart nodded, as if expecting this.
‘Well, in that case, I think this whole investigation ought to be closed down permanently, just as I originally recommended. The Phantom is clearly not a danger to public life if he would put his own life in mortal danger to save an innocent woman who was mistakenly assumed to be him.’
‘I agree, sir,’ Nyssa said and -as the man turned to put his cloak back on- she shared a knowing smile with Tegan.
Lethbridge-Stewart smiled.
‘You know,’ he said, in a quiet aside to Benton. ‘My great-aunt never married. She lived with a woman for the whole of their adult lives. They were… happy, together.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Benton said, with a small smile. ‘I’m sure they were, sir.’
‘Jolly good. Now, I must get back to the Watchhouse.’
‘Are you leaving the village soon, sir?’
‘Maybe in a few days. I could use a little while to rest before heading back to London,’ Lethbridge-Stewart replied. ‘Well, I leave you to your business. Good day to you all.’
With a smart salute and a genial smile, he left.
Benton smiled at his two friends.
‘I best leave you two as well,’ he said, with a knowing look in his eye. ‘I imagine you would appreciate some alone time to get reacquainted by yourselves-’
‘Benton!’ Tegan groaned, face burning.
‘I think that’s a wonderful idea,’ Nyssa said, with a giggle. ‘Goodbye, Benton, and thank you again.’
The young man gave a cheerful smile, before giving them both a hug and leaving.
‘He’s never going to let me forget that,’ Tegan grumbled.
‘Oh, stop worrying, my darling,’ Nyssa replied. ‘He means well. He even gave me a stern talking to about not breaking your heart.’
‘What? When did he do that?’
‘The evening of the dance at your parents inn.’
‘Oh, no…’ -Tegan’s face flushed scarlet- ‘
Nyssa leaned forward and pressed her lips to Tegan’s cheek.
‘I promised him that I wouldn’t,’ she said, very softly. ‘And that’s a promise I intend to keep, Tegan.’
Tegan swallowed.
‘How am I this lucky?’
‘That makes two of us,’ Nyssa replied, before pressing her lips to Tegan’s.
*
‘I now pronounce you husband and wife,’ said Parson Tremas, smiling widely. ‘You may now kiss.’
A great cheer went up from the assembled villagers as Ben and Polly pressed their lips together. As the applause broke out, the newly married couple headed down the aisle and out of the church, followed by the rest of the village. Ian, Barbara and Vicki were clapping enthusiastically, walking next to Polly’s parents.
Tegan and Nyssa were at the back of the crowd, when Yasmin and the Physician appeared out of the churchyard, smiling. Their blue cart was stood on the road outside
‘Are you two leaving?’ Tegan asked, as they approached. ‘You’re not staying for the reception?’
‘We thought it best to slip away during the celebrations.’
‘No, love, you thought it best to slip away,’ Yasmin added, with a roll of her eyes. ‘And then I suggested that it would better if we actually came to say goodbye.’
Tegan pulled Yasmin and the Physician into a warm hug.
‘Thank you both,’ she said. ‘You’ve done so much for us all. How can we ever repay you?’
‘Have a good life,’ Yasmin replied. ‘Do that for us; have a fantastic life.’
Tegan smiled.
‘I promise,’ she said, despite the tears beginning to blossom in her eyes.
The physician and Yasmin smiled at them both, before gently slipping away into the assembled crowd and over to their cart. A few moments later, they had disappeared completely.
‘Impressive,’ Nyssa said, smiling sideways as Tegan wiped her eyes. ‘I didn’t even get to mention my debt of gratitude to them for saving your life.’
‘They know,’ Tegan said, smiling wetly. ‘Oh, there’s my mum, hang on-’
Tegan darted away, in the opposite direction of her advancing mother. Through the crowd, Nyssa could see Mr Jovanka chuckling to himself and Adric rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
‘Hello, Miss Nyssa,’ Mrs Jovanka exclaimed. ‘What a wonderful wedding! Have you seen my daughter, by any chance? Good opportunity for me to suggest her finally getting things sorted with Mister Benton, you see.’
Nyssa tried not to roll her eyes.
‘I think she’s helping Vicki with something. Look, Mrs Jovanka, I really think you ought to stop worrying about that; when Tegan wants to get married, she will.’
‘Oh, I suppose…’ the older woman sighed. ‘Shame she can’t marry you, Miss Nyssa; you’re closer to her than Mister Benton is…’
Nyssa numbly stared after the older woman as she left. At which point, Parson Tremas appeared next to her.
‘You know, Nyssa,’ Tremas said, matter-of-factly. ‘When Lethbridge-Stewart first arrived in the village, Mister Benton did indeed happen to mention that Tegan would rather marry you as opposed to marrying him.’
Nyssa’s face froze.
‘O-oh, really?’
‘Yes. And I replied that, if I could perform the ceremony with the church’s blessing, I would happy to do so for you and Miss Jovanka.’
‘F-father?’
Tremas smiled.
‘Just a passing thought, Nyssa,’ he said, patting his daughter gently on the shoulder. ‘You’ll have to forgive me for getting soppy as I get older but… I do hope that you’ll have a happy life.’
Nyssa blinked, quickly.
‘I… that means the world to me, father.’
Smiling, the parson drifted away into the crowds.
‘Are you feeling alright, Nys?’ Tegan said, as she reappeared a few moments later by her side. ‘You look a little shocked.’
‘Oh, just something nice that my father mentioned. I-’
Their conversation was interrupted by the sounds of horses, and a messenger came to a stop in front of the chapel.
‘Stagecoach is being held up, about a mile away!’ he exclaimed. ‘Where’s the local Watchmen?’
Tegan and Nyssa exchanged a look.
‘That’ll be me!’ Benton exclaimed, waving his arms. ‘Everyone please remain calm; sir, let me accompany you back to the scene of the crime!’
Taking advantage of Benton’s distraction, Tegan and Nyssa slipped away through the crowd and out of the side entrance, hurrying to the back of the parsonage.
Sure enough, Pegasus was stood at the back gate.
‘My turn,’ Nyssa insisted, as they hurried into the house. ‘And, besides, Ben and Polly will want to speak to you at the reception.’
They drew lots.
‘Typical,’ Tegan said, holding aloft the long straw. ‘Alright, just be careful, love; it could be Bloody Henry again.’
‘Not a chance,’ Nyssa said, pressing a quick kiss to her partners cheek. ‘He had to flee to the continent after the investigation into my trial.’
A minute later, Nyssa was changed into the shirt, trousers, mask, hat and cloak. Tegan followed her out to the back gate.
‘Must hurry,’ she said, as she climbed into the saddle. ‘My father may be back soon.’
‘Come home safe,’ Tegan said, looking up at her. ‘You’ll be missed at the reception if you take too long.’
‘Miss Jovanka,’ Nyssa replied, with a chuckle. ‘I’ll have you know that I am never late to an event.’
‘And don’t I know that from personal experience. I love you.’
Nyssa smiled, her enormous grey-green eyes sparkling underneath the mask. Her cheeks dimpled, in that way Tegan had always adored.
‘I love you too.’
With a crack of the reins and an exclamation from his rider, Pegasus charged off.
Tegan stared after the woman she loved, smiling. She knew that things would not be easy for them going forward. Every time Nyssa hurried off under the mask, Tegan would worry. But she also knew that Nyssa was the bravest, most intelligent person she had ever known. And she also knew that Nyssa worried about her being under the mask too. And they loved each other.
Yes, they loved each other.
‘Stand and deliver,’ Tegan Jovanka whispered to herself, with a knowing smile.
~~~~~~~~~
And that was that. This fic took roughly a year to write and, although I'm not entirely sure how, also became the longest fic I have written to date. Originally, I intended this to be a fun bite-sized historical story with chapters of barely 2000 words each. And now I find myself looking back, after having written over 70k; wild! Hard to believe this fic started with a single image in my mind of a highwayman dropping out of a tree, to be honest, but that's what happened when you follow your creative inclinations, I suppose XD
I hope you've all enjoyed this historical AU; I know I've enjoyed writing it and I definitely feel more comfortable writing action compared to when I first started this fic. I don't know if I'll ever write a fic this long again but we'll see what the future holds. As usual, my deepest thanks to everyone who has read and a special thank you to those people who have left such supportive and lovely comments throughout this writing process; you people are the reason I've been so inspired to write this fic, and I cannot thank you enough.
