CHANGING LIGHT

By Eliza
elizawpg@home.com

Rating: PG13 ('cause I don't want to use G) ;p
Disclaimers: Fireworks owns them and I hope they aren't aware of the phrase -- "Use it or lose it."
Notes: I would like to thank Jim for letting me use his idea of Tessa's gift. It continues to stay with me, so I have the feeling that this should be a much larger story. I can't seem to find it though. Anyone who thinks they see it, please write it -- or contact me, I would love to do a collaboration.

~~~~~

Tessa stood looking at her father's sword hanging beneath his portrait. It had been there for four days now. Every day the sight of it make her more uneasy, yet it had been hung there at her insistence. She tentatively touched the scabbard.

"You are having second thoughts," said Marta, standing in the doorway. Tessa's noncommittal shrug must have been just encouraging enough to prompt her to continue, "So now you've turned your back on all the things that you used to preach. That's no reason to think you may have made a rash choice?"

Tessa knew the words and tone were intended to get a rise out of her, but even forearmed with that knowledge she still snapped, "I haven't turned my back."

"That's what it feels like, does it not? That you have abandoned all of your principles. That you have betrayed his memory in giving up our quest for vengeance."

The careful silence that had surrounded this topic for the past few days couldn't last forever, but Tessa had hoped it would continue a little while longer. Still, there had been enough time and distance for her to be able to put some of her feelings into words. "But that's exactly why I stopped. Even if my suspicions are correct, I know there will never be enough proof to bring them to justice."

"This was not about justice -- it was about revenge. You were your father's 'avenging angel'"

"How does that make me any better than Montoya? Judging without proof or trial. How could I continue to say: what's wrong for him is not wrong for me?"

Marta had moved to the sideboard during Tessa's speech and now turned with a glass of wine in each hand. Tessa took one as Mara asked quietly, "So what is it that is right for you?"

Tessa stood slightly confused at this change of tack, as Marta took a sip from her own glass and continued to hold Tessa's gaze. The direction of this confrontation finally became apparent. "You're very sneaky," said Tessa, narrowing her eyes.

Marta just smiled. "I had to find some way to get you on the subject. Five days ago you suddenly announced that your were putting away the mask and were going to mount your father's sword under his portrait where you felt it should have been placed a year ago. Then you refused to say another word about it."

Tessa drank from her own glass and sat on the edge of the couch. She took a deep breath and focused on the glass in her hands before explaining, "I had managed to wound Montoya. In the past I had just wanted to escape, but this time when I saw him disarmed, vulnerable, with his blood on Papa's sword, I was tempted to stain it all. Then he said, 'I would have the decency not to drag this out.' I realized that he was sure I would kill him... because he would kill me. I suddenly knew that I wasn't much better than the colonel. He wants me dead because I take things of his. I want him dead because he took something of mine. At least I think he did, I can't even be sure, whereas he has no doubt that I am stealing his gold and making him a laughing stock in Monterey. I found I couldn't tell who was right anymore."

Leaning against the sideboard, Marta took another sip of wine before simply saying, "So you are giving it all up."

"Yes." Tessa didn't raise her eyes as she confirmed the statement. Part of her was screaming, 'No!' and she didn't want Marta to see that.

"Because every time you put on the mask and the sword you are doing it to avenge your father."

It was another statement, but Tessa was hearing the numerous questions that had been running through her own mind during the past few days. The ones she hadn't wanted to answer once the decision had been made. Somehow hearing the words out loud forced her to look at those answers. "Not every time. The time I had to rescue you from Mary Rose had nothing to do with Papa."

"When you intercept Montoya's gold it is used to help someone. Usually so they can pay the colonel," said Marta, as if she was reminding a child of her lessons.

"Andreo Rey's problems were not connected to Papa or Montoya... at least initially."

"So why did the Queen help him?"

Tessa couldn't help but be peeved at Marta's slightly condescending tone, but she knew her friend was doing what she always did... going right to the heart of the matter. "It was the right thing to do. It would have been a huge injustice to continue letting those people pose as his parents."

"It is reasonable to say then, that the Queen is only out for vengeance say... half the time? A third, maybe?" Tessa closed her eyes with an embarrassed wince, inviting Marta to prompt, "You know exactly how many times, don't you?"

Tessa felt a blush rise as she said, "Maybe six. You would make an excellent teacher, Marta. You're a master of the Socratic method."

"The what?"

"You know how to ask just the right questions."

"I thought teachers were supposed to answer questions."

"You've done that, too." In the course of this conversation, Tessa's feelings toward her friend had ranged from angry to embarrassed to irritated. Right now, she loved Marta more than anyone in the world. "What would I do without you?"

That the love was returned easy to see in Marta's eyes and in her smile, but then the expression in both shifted slightly. "Starve to death, for one. I've seen you make breakfast."

Tessa relaxed against the back of the couch taking another taste of her wine. She couldn't let that smart remark slide. "You know... there is another important reason for me to continue as the Queen."

Marta furrowed her brow obviously trying to think of it herself before asking, "What would that be?"

"She has a much better chance of kissing Robert Helm than I do."

"Tessa!"

"It's true. I think he has a thing for women with whips."

"I would have assumed that would be more Montoya's style."

"Marta!"

"You started it. Come on, let's have dinner. The stew has been ready for at least an hour."

"I have one thing to do first." Tessa rose and went to reclaim her father's sword.

"Wait!" Marta stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I have a better idea."

"But you've just convinced me," complained Tessa, as Marta led her back to the couch.

"Just wait here a minute."

Marta seemed excited rather than concerned so Tessa sat, impatiently, trying to do as she was told. Marta returned quickly with something wrapped in a blanket. Tessa immediately had her suspicions, but she was still surprised at the beauty of the sword that Marta uncovered as she explained, "I've had it for a couple of weeks, but never found the right time to give it to you. I thought that having your own sword might help you remember that you put the mask on for your own reasons. Not out of duty and loyalty, not with a sense of vengeance, not as anyone's weapon, but because you know you can make the world a better place for the people in this pueblo. You make sure that no one puts their thumb on Blind Justice's scales."

Tessa carefully drew the weapon from it's scabbard. It was the same size and similar balance to her father's. The hilt and guard were of slightly different detail, but had the same basic design. A unique element, however, was etched on the pommel... a queen's crown.

"It is the queen of swords," said Tessa with a grin. A weight had been gradually lifting throughout the conversation, and with this omen she suddenly felt as if she was floating. This was hers... her destiny. Not a quest that she had been set upon, but a gift she has embraced.

She looked again at her father's sword hanging on the wall and wondered if she should remove it. It would likely prompt more questions of it disappeared again. The only person that might notice a chance in weapon was Montoya, and even then he would have to connect it to the newly mounted blade. No, she would leave it there. A reminder of the love that had started her on this path in the first place.

~~~~~

Thanks to Rodlox for sending the song and providing inspiration for the angst. ;)

WHICH WAY ARE YOU GOING
by Jim Croce

Which way are you going? Which side will you be on?
Will you stand and watch while, all the seeds of hate are sown?
Will you stand with those who say 'That (H)is will be done'?
One hand on the Bible, one hand on the gun.

Which way are you looking? Is it hard to see?
Do you say 'what's wrong for him, is not wrong for me'?
You walk the streets, of righteousness, but you refuse to understand.
Say you love the baby, but then you crucify the man.
Ev'ry day, things are changing. Words once honored, change their lives.
People wondering 'can you blame them? It's too far to run, and too late to hide.'

So now you've turned your back on, all the things that you used to preach.
Now it's 'let him live in freedom, if he lives like me.'
Oh your light has changed, confusion reigns.
What have you become?
Oh your olive branches turn to spears, when your flowers turn to guns

END