Chapter Text
Winston never liked visiting Ilsa. Unfortunately, it came with the job. She had a hand in any business being dealt with in Germany or its surrounding countries. If Winston needed some help regarding those who served in those areas, she was the person to go to. As long as he was in the neighborhood, she was his point of contact. It was why he needed to be civil with her.
Winston didn’t hide his disregard for the rest of the High Table. He had no trouble talking down to them and reminding them just who it was they were dealing with. He made the exception with Ilsa. When he was with her, he was a dog with a tail between his legs. Any time she made eye contact with him, the knowing glimmer shining within reminded him of what she was capable of.
One little slip, and she could do anything to Pavla. She knew it too. It was why she looked at him that way. It was why Winston pretended to still pledge his fealty to the High Table. Ilsa didn’t scare him the way Cormac had, but she still made him constantly look over his shoulder. And depending on how this conversation went, he might even be feeling her breathe down his neck soon.
Winston watched as the door to Ilsa’s office slowly swung open, greeting him to the shiny decor once more. He kept his head up high as he stepped inside, his eyes wandering around for the Queen.
He found her standing at the head of her table over a tea set. She gently poured a cup of tea onto a tray before her seat then looked over at Winston once it was filled to the brim.
“Winston Scott. It is always a surprise to hear you outside my door.”
Winston made a polite smile despite the obvious faux enthusiasm in her voice. “Well, I’m always grateful whenever Her Majesty accepts an audience with one of her loyal subjects.”
Ilsa began to pour another cup and hummed. “That is the correct answer.” Once she finished, she picked it up and brought it over to him with the familiar glance crossing onto her face. “Have a seat.”
Winston tentatively took the cup and nodded in thanks. He took the seat at the opposite head and watched Ilsa return to her throne at the foot of her portrait. It still loomed over her like a dark omen, reminding Winston of what would come to him should he break the rules. It was exactly what he was afraid of.
Once she settled into her seat, Ilsa pressed her back into it and turned her body onto a slant. “What can the High Table do for you today?”
Winston did his best to maintain eye contact. He gripped onto the arms of the chair and forced himself to gulp, but there was still a nervous waver to his voice.
“Well, I’m...afraid I’m in some trouble.”
Any good humor Ilsa had left in her melted in an instant.
“What kind?” she asked with a bite.
Winston didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to confess that he’d broken a rule and let their secret out into the world. He wanted to guard it with his heart and hold it there for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t. He’d already suffered one too many of the consequences for his actions. He was going to face this like a man.
“Pavla’s pregnant.” Winston practically spit the words out, taking a breath as though they had pained him to release.
Ilsa’s face and tone didn’t change, and she merely stared at him with no emotion.
She eventually asked, “And she wants it to be born?”
“Yes.”
Ilsa hummed. “That is a problem.”
“I-I know. It’s why I need your help. I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before. I don’t know how it’s typically handled. So I’m seeking your help in how the High Table would like to deliver the consequences of what’s happened.”
Ilsa finally allowed herself to sigh, taking to her feet while she clicked her tongue. She shook her head while she moved across the floor, slowly inching her way towards Winston’s side of the table.
“I am disappointed in you, Winston. A man of your status and character is supposed to be a beacon of order for this organization. And yet, you continuously think you are above the rules. It is foolish. I should have you killed for it. But you are honest. You do not try to hide your actions from us. You may think you are above our rules yet you still adhere to them. That is admirable. So I will be honest with you.”
Ilsa rested her hand on the table as she stood over Winston. “How do you think we bring our most loyal soldiers into the fold?”
Winston shrugged. “You give them no other choice.”
“Exactly. That is why we bring them in as early as we can. There are some families who have their children born into this world so they can serve us. They have the High Table running through their veins so it is all they know. They are the ones who never disappoint us. Many of these families are in this area. I am certain they would be happy to take on one more member to train. The Ruska Roma, for example.”
Winston fought back a shiver at the name. He’d had to work with them frequently should business call for it. He’d also kept a vigilant eye on them after Pavla’s attack, making sure they kept themselves in line. They were another group he didn’t like dealing with. But if he understood Ilsa correctly, he’d have to now deal with them for the rest of his life.
“You’re asking me to give my child—our child—to the Ruska Roma once they’re born.”
Ilsa made an aloof shrug. “Is there a problem? I would think that is a reasonable solution. The Ruska Roma are in Minsk. They would be close by to you and Miss Petrovna. Your child would still be a part of their heritage while having a toe in this world. You could not visit them, no, but they would be protected. We would make sure of that.”
A feigned smile appeared on her face as she took Winston’s hand, batting her eyes as an attempt to display kindness. “I know it is a painful decision. You would have no contact with this child. They would not even know your name. But I can assure you that they would be taken of. I will see to it that they are the best of us all. They will be safe with the Ruska Roma.”
Winston wanted to say no. He wanted to say every awful thing he’d ever thought about Ilsa there and then and walk out. He wanted to watch his child enter the world and grow into it. He wanted to be the father he never had. But rules were rules. These were his consequences. He had to say yes. But he could still play a trick up his sleeve.
“When I say yes, I want one condition.”
Ilsa huffed. “You are in no position to be making your own rules, Winston.”
“Only one.” Winston held up his index finger for emphasis. “I can accept that we’ll have no contact with our child. However, I expect updates on them. I want to know their condition, how they’re progressing, pictures, anything. I won’t cut myself off completely from them.”
Ilsa made a faint sneer. “Of course we would do that. We are not monsters.”
Winston made a silent sigh of relief. “Then I accept. You have my word that this child will be the Ruska Roma’s.”
“Oh, I need much more than your word.”
Winston’s heart sank the longer he watched her face twist into a smirk. She was really making him do it. She wanted him to be humiliated. The curling of her lips told him that she knew she always had the upper hand. He was her obedient servant for life.
Winston forced himself to his feet then dropped to his knees before her. He kept his eyes on the polished floor as he repeated the phrase he so often heard in the Continental.
“I have served, and I will continue to be of service.”
Ilsa pursed her lips and tapped her finger against her chin. “Your fealty is appreciated, but it is missing something.”
She moved over to the wall and grabbed a sword display from its post, gently cradling the blade in her hands. Once she faced Winston again, she grabbed it by the hilt and looked down on him.
“Open your shirt.”
Winston frantically undid the buttons then pulled out the sides, exposing his bare chest to her.
She continued, “I had been considering cutting off your balls to prevent such a careless mistake from happening again. But even I am not that cruel. So instead, I will give you a different kind of mark for Miss Petrovna to find whenever she makes love to you. It will be a reminder to you both of this moment.”
In one swoop, Ilsa slashed an X through Winston’s stomach with the sword. Winston could barely hold back his cry of pain through gritted teeth, and he felt himself collapse to the floor as his chest burned hot. Ilsa kept the sword at her side while she walked off, leaving him behind to deal with his pain.
“You will meet with the Ruska Roma in two days to confirm,” she said over her shoulder.
She pushed open the door to find two of her henchmen standing guard outside. Her job was done. It was their turn to have their fun.
As she walked by, she told them, “Clean him up before he bleeds on my floor.”
~
“They could have done a better job of treating this,” Pavla told Winston. “This might have turned septic soon.”
Winston had finally returned to his beloved in the dead of night, practically tripping through her door as the pain from his wound seared through him. He was lucky she had experience in her own share of injuries, leading her to have a roll of bandage tape at the ready.
She sat on the edge of her couch with the tape in hand, wrapping it around Winston’s scars against the firelight. Winston propped himself up along the couch so his back could be pressed into the arm of it.
“Well, they didn’t exactly provide me with-” He winced, “-bandages for a twelve-hour trip. God.” He threw his head back to sigh. “Where’s Charon when you need him?”
“You don’t need Charon. You have me. Your miracle drug isn’t going to stop you from bleeding out.” Pavla pinched off the last of the tape and pressed it into his side. “There. That should hold you off until morning.”
“Thank you, darling.” Winston leaned over to give her a gentle kiss.
Once they pulled back, he turned his eyes down towards his lap. They had to address the elephant in the room sooner or later.
“So what do you think?”
Winston had told Pavla about their deal while she treated him, but she’d never given a full answer on if she was okay with it. From the way she couldn’t look at him either, he didn’t think she wanted to accept it either.
“That’s our only option?”
“It’s the only option she gave us. If...If this is how the High Table handles these types of situations, then we have to accept it.”
Pavla nodded in understanding, but the way she turned up her face told Winston she didn’t like it any more than he did.
He added, “I’m supposed to meet with the Ruska Roma in two days to confirm. They’ll show me around the church andlet me see how the other children there live. It’s so I can have a understanding of how they’ll live and make sure this is who we want to leave them with.”
Pavla sat in her silence, but Winston could see the wheels turning in her head. She was considering something. She was creating a plan of her own, and they always went one of two ways.
Shaking her head, she finally said, “No. You’re not going. I am.”
Winston’s eyes widened in an instant. “Pavla, absolutely not-”
“Winston!” The harsh tone in Pavla’s voice was clear. “This is my child too. I pledged my life to you knowing the risks I’d be taking. I don’t care if I don’t live in this world with you. I won’t have you all making decisions for me like I’m cattle. I want to see the life our child is going to live too. You gave them your promise. Let me give mine.”
Winston’s eyes softened while she spoke, and he found himself falling in love with her all over again. Pavla was always full of surprises. And once she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her. He couldn’t help but admire her for it. If she had sworn her fealty to the High Table, he had no doubt she would have been one of the best.
“Alright. You can go in my place,” Winston told her.
He leaned over to grab her hand, finally allowing themselves to look each other in the eye.
He continued, “But when you do, you need to do exactly what I’m about to tell you. So listen closely.”
