A/N: I was watching the movie and I got this idea. If the characters seem a bit OOC, remember that this takes place 6 years after Changes for Felicity and so naturally they would have grown up quite a bit.

Note: There has some confusion about the age of Felicity and it almost threw me off for a moment. Felicity was 10 in Changes for Felicity and it's been 6 years since that book, so she'd be 16 in this oneshot. I've noticed my typos about the years in my story and have fixed them.

Another note: Thank you sooooo much LucysCloset for pointing out parts where my story could be improved! I've fixed some things so that they make more sense and have expounded on a few more. Hopefully that will make this story more enjoyable. Your review was not too harsh, but it did cause a big "DUH!" to go through my head. :blushes: I was sick when I wrote most of this so I'm blaming the rushed feeling and typos on that. :nods:

So yeah, this oneshot has been given a rather large overhaul. Enjoy. :-P

Disclaimer: I do not own Felicity or Ben or Elizabeth (drat!) they all belong to the wonderful Valerie Tripp. I don't own the Christmas carol "Good King Wenceslas" either.

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"Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
When the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even;
Brightly shone the moon that night
Though the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight
Gathering winter fuel."

Winter 1781

Scarlet footsteps marked the trail of the lone Patriot soldier slowly making his way toward the burning lampposts before him that marked the entry of a town. In the bright moonlight the young man's weak eyes caught a glimpse of the wooden sign that welcomed travelers. However most of the sign was covered in snow and all that could be seen was the last four letters: "burg." He hoped it was the "burg" he had been looking for.

His bound and bleeding feet had long since ceased their throbbing and now felt like blocks of lead at the end of his long legs. He hunched over in the cold, for the wind was blowing fiercely and the snow blinded his eyes. Long brown hair whipped to and fro but he had not the strength to bind it back into place. Besides he could not for his wound hindered him and he grasped it with his right hand. Stumbling once in the deep, crisp snow, he righted himself by leaning against an abandoned cart that lay near the covered path. Blinking rapidly, he continued to make his way into the town.

A loud cough ripped through his throat and he had to stop, bent almost double in the middle of the road. The hacking sound gradually ceased and he wiped blood from his ragged beard. Straightening as best he could, the wounded soldier picked up his pace once more. By this time however he felt quite lost and weary. Not a stone or a fencepost looked familiar to his weary eyes and he felt he could go on no further. Sagging against one of those posts, he shivered violently in the frigid wind until he could remain upright no longer and sank to the ground.

He did not know how long he had lain there, propped up against the post behind him, when he felt a warm hand on his cheek and a sweet voice full of concern above him.

"You poor man! You're half frozen. Come with me and I'll take you someplace warm." She (for it sounded like a she) began to tug on his arm in an attempt to help him up. He supposed she was a slight thing for although her grip was strong, her efforts proved in vain. With difficulty, he shook his head.

"Nay miss," he mumbled through cracked and bleeding lips. "Do not trouble yourself, for I am dying." Opening his eyes slightly, he caught a glimpse of bright red among the swirling white. Soon afterwards however his eyes failed him and fell shut once more. "Leave me be."

"I will not," the girl said stubbornly. "My house is only a couple houses down the way. Here, let me help you."

She got down onto the icy snow beside him and shoved her shoulder rather forcefully behind his. With a painful grimace, he managed to get back onto his feet. He staggered slightly but the girl was there to catch him and hold him upright.

"There you go," she said in a soft soothing tone that pricked his ears with their familiarity. Glancing sidelong at her, he hoped to catch a glimpse of her face. However her crimson hood obscured her face and the blistering snow only helped in hindering his vision of her further. He relinquished his will then, and allowed the girl to help him along the road.

Just when he felt as though he could not walk one step further, the girl was opening the door to a cheery brick house that revealed warm, welcoming light and warmth. He pulled away from the girl and leaned against the wall for support as she shut the door.

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth, come quickly!" the girl called, stepping forward into the hall. Attempting to follow, he pushed off the wall and took a step forward on his own. However his feet could not sustain him and the floor rushed up to greet him with an impact that left him breathless. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the swirl of a blue hemline as another young woman emerged from the parlor.

"Oh Lissie!" was the one exclamation he heard before all went silent.

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A great fever overtook him and for seven days he battled against it. In his delirium he lashed out at anyone who came to assist him. It was only when the girl, the girl with the scarlet cape came into the room and held his hand, singing to him softly in that familiar soothing voice did he sleep peacefully and allow the doctor to minister to him.

The dreams he had were nightmares as his subconscious mind wrestled with the Angel of Death. He recalled horrific moments of the war which he had long ago banished from his thoughts. Reliving skirmishes and battles did little to improve his health and more often than not sent him spiraling down into another feverish fit. The doctor and young women who tended to him feared for his life. However at dawn on the eighth day the fever broke and he slept peacefully until the ninth day when he opened his eyes.

He saw blue bed curtains first. The intricate embroidery was finer than he had ever seen in the past four years. Running his right hand over the cool bed sheets, he paused briefly before attempting to sit up. Suddenly the curtain was pulled back and he flinched away from the bright light that streamed in from a window on his right. White snow glistened in the sunlight, and he found he recognized the town outside. It was Williamsburg, Virginia, his original destination. A sigh of relief passed through his lips but when he pushed back the coverlet to stand, a sharp voice stopped him.

"I'm sorry, sir but I'm afraid you must remain in bed until the doctor tells us you may walk about."

He turned swiftly toward the sound and caught sight of a lovely young woman of about sixteen with a mountain of blonde curls swept up in an elegant style, the white mop cap hardly restraining them. In her hands she carried a tray of food and it was only then that his stomach began to cry for a meal. She smiled slightly at the noise and approached with the tray.

"Aye, we thought you might be hungry." Approaching with the tray, she set it down on a bed side table and arranged the pillows behind him, gesturing for him to prop himself up against them once she had finished. Setting the tray in his lap, she stood back to observe as he picked up the utensil with his right hand and began to eat ravenously. After a moment he remembered his manners however, and slowed to a steadier pace.

"You have my undying gratitude," he said graciously as he finished the meal and rested his head against the headboard behind him. He frowned suddenly as he felt something changed about him. Lifting a hand to his hair he laughed slightly. "You cut my hair?" he asked, fingering the short strands.

The girl nodded, grinning. "And shaved your beard. I mean you no offense, but you did look rather horrid." There was a slight British lilt in her voice that reminded him of someone, although he could not connect his memory to the pretty girl that stood beside him. However under close observation her identity became clear.

"Elizabeth Cole, is that you?" he asked, incredulous at her change in appearance.

She laughed. "Of course it is," she said. "Although we did not recognize you until we had you cleaned up. I've never seen you so unkempt, Benjamin Davidson. It was rather unsettling."

He allowed a small smile before all her words registered. "We?" he asked, his heart beginning to race with anxiety and hope. A graceful smile curled the young woman's lips.

"Yes, Ben, 'we.' Felicity was the one who found you out in that terrible storm. She considers it great fortune that she had to run an important errand that hour." Elizabeth Cole came over and took the tray from him. Turning to the door, she was about to take her leave when she paused, turning back. "Do you wish to see her?" she asked hesitantly, her blue eyes flickering over to his left side. Self-consciously he covered his wound with his right hand and bit his lip.

"If she wishes to see me," he replied softly and Miss Cole smiled sympathetically.

"She would like nothing better" came the gentle reply and the girl was gone, her long blue dress flaring out behind her.

He sighed and leaned his head back once again, letting his eyelashes fall to rest upon the dark circles that graced the underside of his eyes. His gaunt cheeks were almost as white as the sheets that covered him and the walls that surrounded him. It had been four years since he had last been to Williamsburg and change had visited the town in ways he had not imagined, although logically they could not be avoided. Remembering the girl who had helped him in the snow, he recalled how tall and slender she had been. Felicity had been but a child of twelve years when he had left, and now she would be a young woman of sixteen and he did not know what to expect.

Many times throughout his four year service in the war had he thought of her, hoping her and her family were safe and praying that he would see her again. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, than Ben Davidson's heart had no hope of avoiding the swell of affection that grew within him for the little shopkeeper's daughter whenever he thought of her.

What would she think of him now? He was no longer the strong, hot-headed youth he had been when he had first ran away to join George Washington's army. Thinking of that time brought him back to the agreement he and Mr. Merriman had come to. When the war was over he was to work off his last two years of apprenticeship. But now he could not even accomplish that. And what would Felicity say when she saw him? He decided not to dwell on that question for he could not guess the answer. Instead he began to think of what he would say when he saw her.

He supposed he should apologize for the absence of communication the past three years. Ink and paper were scarce when one was on a battlefield and he simply had not taken the time to find some. Would she be angry with him? Would she scold him? The idea of her scolding him, like she had in the forest behind her grandfather's plantation, brought a small smile to his pale lips. Then his smile slipped. If he had changed so much in the years passed, how much could she have changed? Was she still the same spirited young woman he knew, with her stubbornness yet compassion that made her so endearing to him? What if the war had caused her to become weary as well?

The thought saddened him and he hastened to think of other things: things that would keep his mind off his worries. However he had not gone far down the path of naming different bird species when the door to the bedroom opened. He barely had time to see who it was before there was a loud squeal of joy and a flurry of red and suddenly, ignoring all propriety, a slender girl had flung herself on the bed and thrown her arms around his neck.

Surprise locked his bones together and for a moment he could not move but simply listen to the sobs of happiness that were wracking the body on top of him. A soft, soothing sound issued through his lips almost involuntarily as he slowly lifted his right hand and placed it on the girl's heaving back, burying his fingers in the long red hair that rested there.

"Lissie, Lissie," he murmured quietly with a light laugh. "Dry your tears. All is well. I'm here now. Hush, little one."

"Oh Ben," the girl said with another sob as she pulled away and sat up, brushing the hair off her wet face. "I know it is. That's why I'm crying: because I am so very happy to see you again." She smiled then and he was struck paralyzed once more. Her green eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her neck was flushed, her face streaked with tears, and her red hair flew about like a mane on a wild horse. She still had a light dusting freckles across her nose that stood out prominently on her pale face. The mop cap perched on top of her head was askew and her dress was rumpled. However despite the obvious show of imperfection, he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his lifetime. He attributed this to the fact that he had not seen her in six years, but that did not serve as an excuse. To him she was beautiful, even now.

"I am very happy to see you as well, Felicity," he said, smiling slightly even as he reached up to touch one stray tear that trembled on her jaw. "I've missed you."

"Oh Ben, how we've all missed you!" Lissie cried, grabbing his hand in both of hers and lifting it to her heart where he could feel the rapid beats through the cloth of her gown. "I can't tell you how many times I've longed to go out and find you! We all grew very disheartened when your letters stopped."

He looked away, unable to hold her searching gaze. "I apologize for causing you and your family worry," he murmured. A sender finger pressed under his chin, causing his face to rise and his shame-filled eyes to meet the warm ones of the girl in front of him.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she whispered. "Because you're here now." Tears gathered in her eyes once more and he silently hoped for no more sudden embraces for he did not believe his heart was strong enough just yet. She suddenly brightened. "And just in time for Christmas too!" she cried, suddenly standing up and moving to the window, clasping her hands behind her back and looking out at the winter wonderland before her.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she said dreamily. "I was riding Penny out there the other day. We had a glorious time."

Cocking his head to the side, he watched her quizzically. "What day is it?" he asked.

"Christmas Eve" came the cheerful answer, and the girl turned back to him. With a wide grin she hurried over to his side once more and sat on the bed beside him. "And you're our best Christmas present ever."

A bitter laugh escaped his stiff lips. "I would hardly say 'best,'" he said, more harshly than he intended to. "Damaged usually does not fall under the rank of best, Felicity." And he nodded to his wound with a pointed look. The girl's gaze followed his and the cheerful smile sank into a look of deep remorse.

"Oh Ben," she said, covering her mouth with one white hand. "Your arm."

He turned his face away, unable to look at the pity and concern that had entered Felicity Merriman's gaze as she said the cursed word. For war is a horrible event that befalls man and many who engage in it do not come back whole. Some men lose their souls, some their lives. And others experience loss of limb. In Ben Davidson's case it was the latter.

No noble story accompanied the missing arm. It had been a bullet wound that had grown infected. The doctor on the field amputated the arm just above the elbow and since the boy could no longer fight, he was sent home. However the road back was long and difficult and the wound had not fully healed before he had set off. He was ashamed of the wound. There was no heroic act that he could take pride in and all he would be now was a burden on his friends and family. One could not find work when one had only one arm to work with.

Lissie's eyes filled with tears once more, only these were not tears of happiness and joy but of sadness and pity. He clenched his jaw tightly. Pity was not an emotion he liked to be dealt with. The girl raised a trembling hand and reached across him to touch the severed extremity which had been wrapped in a clean bandage while he slept.

Like a snake he struck, snapping the jaws of his right hand over her wrist, holding it firmly away from the desired destination.

"Nay," he said through a clenched jaw. "Do not."

The tears spilled over now and flowed unheeded down her pale cheeks. His stomach tightened and he released his hold on her. She stood swiftly. Clasping her hands in front of her, she looked down at him silently for a moment before hastily wiping away her tears. Reaching over to the bedside table, she opened the drawer and took out a small bell which she placed beside him.

"Ring if you need something," she said, her voice firm and clear. "Goodnight Ben." With those parting word she turned and left. Guilt settled in his stomach as he watched her go, sure he had committed some wrong but unable to think of a way to remedy it. Sighing, he leaned his head back once more and closed his eyes, remembering with a slight flush of color how Felicity had felt lying in his arm. The fantasy did not last long however, for the boy fell asleep and dreamed of cannon fire and bayonets.

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The next day, Christmas Day, the doctor declared Ben fit to walk about, as long as he did not strain himself. He was considered fortunate to escape such a long trek in the snow without loss of any toes. Although he was not sure he was 'fortunate,' he thanked the doctor gratefully and wished him a Happy Christmas. Even though he could now walk about the house, he remained in his quarters, watching the carolers and party-goers through the bedroom window. He moved from the spot only when he was called down to meals.

Elizabeth exchanged worried looks with Mr. and Mrs. Merriman over the supper table when both Felicity and Ben were usually quiet. Little Nan, William, and Polly did not seem to notice anything amiss, but she did. She remembered a time when all would be laughing and telling great yarns and enjoying each other's company. Now the room was as silent as the old cemetery behind the church and nothing she could say made the atmosphere any lighter. That year Christmas was spent in solitude for more than one person.

Annabelle came to town a week later. She was married to a wealthy merchant now and Ben had no desire to see her, remembering well the ways she used to try and gain his admiration. When she came to have tea with Elizabeth, he supposed he should go down and congratulate her but he could not remove himself from the window. From where he stood he could see the stable where Felicity rode Penny every day. Since he still could not work up the courage to speak to her, he made himself be content with watching her from a distance.

After Annabelle had gone, it was Elizabeth who went up the stairs of her grand house to visit the melancholy soldier. She watched him from the doorway for a moment before gathering her courage and stepping forward to stand beside him, looking down at the girl and her horse below them.

"She never gave up hope, you know," she said softly, never moving her gaze. The young man remained still as well. He did not speak. "Even after your letters stopped coming and three years passed without a word, and even though everyone else had given up, she never did. She believed you would come back with all her heart. She loves you."

He dropped his gaze to the floor boards, guilt entering him and twisting his stomach mercilessly. Lifting a hand, he gasped the stump that used to be his left arm. Flushed cheeks betrayed his feelings of disgrace as his mind wandered to those things he could no longer do.

"I am only part of the man I was before I left," he said softly. "I cannot keep my promise to Mr. Merriman and this knowledge shames me for I cannot do anything else. Lissie should not have waited for me. I cannot tell her that which is on my heart for I know I would be no good to her like this." He gestured to the bandaged limb.

Elizabeth's cheeks grew pink with sudden fervor. "Do you love her then?" she asked, her voice laced with an excitement she could hardly contain.

The room grew still as he made no reply. A long while had passed before he ventured to speak and when he did it was not the response Elizabeth had expected.

"It doesn't matter anymore" was the quiet answer and Miss Cole's heart broke for her two friends who appeared to be yearning for each other yet somehow were unable to speak about it. She sighed resignedly.

"I would not say as such," she said, laying her hand on his arm and turning him toward her. He could not meet her searching gaze. "A missing arm does not take away from what's inside here." She pressed her forefinger to his chest with a meaningful look.

A tiny smile graced the once frowning lips of Benjamin Davidson as he looked down at the blonde Athena before him. "You have changed much, Elizabeth Cole," he said. "I don't remember you having this much courage."

She smiled and there was a hint of sadness to her gaze. "I grew up. We both did." With a gesturing hand she indicated the girl and her horse on the lawn beneath them. He turned to look and she reached up to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Go to her," she said softly, before she turned away and left him to his thoughts.

It took him several more days to work up the courage to act on Elizabeth's words. He always hated being called cowardly but every time he approached the oldest Merriman girl he found he could not speak and only turned away, Felicity's hurt and bewildered gaze burning into his memory painfully. He dreamed about those eyes, hurt because of him, confused because he did not have the courage to tell her his feelings. Finally he decided to go and get it over with.

Felicity was with Penny in the stable that day, after a long afternoon of riding, and was combing the long mane carefully when he came up behind her and cleared his throat lightly. Whirling around, her hand would have connected with his nose if he had not leapt back. She grimaced and apologized, her cheeks flushed from both her ride and embarrassment. Once more she was not looking her best. Her hair was wind-swept and tangled, her hat was down her back, her dress was rumpled and dirty which caused him to think she had fallen down several times during her ride. Her cheeks were ruddy and her face sweaty, but her eyes shone bright as they did often when she rode.

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Davidson?" she asked in a polite way that made him cringe. Formality was something they had never used with one another. He passed a hand over his hair as he searched for something to say that would gently break the tense silence that had solidified between them.

"I wanted to apologize," he said, moving to rest his hand inside his pocket. In earlier days he would have clasped his hands behind his back, or in front of him, to show that he was at ease and not looking for a fight, but since he had only the one hand he had to make do with stowing it away out of sight. "For my rudeness these past couple of weeks. It was uncalled-for and I am sorry." He kept his gaze straight ahead, fearful of what expression might grace the girl's face as she heard him speak.

"Were you being rude?" came the almost immediate nonchalant answer. A frown creased his forehead as he turned to look upon her.

"Aye, that I—" he stopped when he realized she was smiling. He ventured to offer a tentative one in return. "Then you're not angry with me?" he asked hopefully, realizing with joy the return of her lively spirit reflected in her clear green eyes.

"Of course not!" she said with a laugh, as if such an idea was preposterous. Dropping the curry comb onto the stall door she pulled on his sleeve until his hand was visible and she grasped it tightly in both hands. "You are my best friend, Ben. I just wish that you would trust me enough to let me in. I know you're hurting. . . ." She trailed off and lifted one hand to curl a finger around a stray hair that had fallen into his face and pull it out of the way.

"Did you think I would not accept you with only one arm?" she asked in a whisper.

He found himself swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with effort. Bowing his head he spoke softly as she did. "I'm no use to anyone in this state. I might as well have died in battle."

A frown flitted across Felicity's face and she tightened her grip on his hand. "Don't you ever say that again Benjamin Davidson," she said, scolding him harshly with pointed finger. "You are more than just an apprentice to my father. You're our family. My family." She stepped back and smiled gently. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," she concluded tenderly. "You mean the world to me." Reaching up hesitantly, she laid her hand on his cheek. Slowly shutting his eyes, he felt warmth fill his cheeks at the contact.

"Lissie," he started quietly, "if that's true then there's something I need to tell you." Taking a deep breath to gather his courage, he opened his eyes and slowly lowered himself to the ground on one knee. Felicity's eyes grew wide with surprise and a small smile began to form on her lips as he slowly grinned in return.

"Felicity Merriman, when I was fighting with the Patriots all the while my thoughts were on you. I discovered that I loved you, Lissie, and I came here to Williamsburg to find you and tell you so. I was afraid my loss of limb would repulse you and I know I cannot find a trade as easily as I would like, but I would be most honored if you would consent to becoming my wife."

Her eyes gleamed as a joyful laugh burst through her trembling lips. "Of course I would, Ben," she said, grinning with all her strength. He stood slowly, flushing with pleasure at her response. But then the light within her dimmed and she looked suddenly worried.

"But what would Father say?" she asked, glancing behind her at the house. "I am but sixteen and need his consent."

Waving a hand to dismiss her question, he smiled down at her, placing his hand on her shoulder and drawing closer to her. "It took me a while, but I asked him the other day, hoping I would be able to find the courage to ask you," he told her. "He has given us his blessing."

"Oh Ben!" Felicity cried, and flung her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "I've waited so long. I waited for the letter that you would send with the question. I could tell you know." She pulled away and looked up into his face, grinning faintly. "In your letters, I could tell you were starting to feel something. That just made my feelings grow stronger. When the letters stopped coming it almost broke my heart, but I never gave up hope that you were alive and would come back to me. Just like you said in your letters." Penny stomped her foot and tossed her head with a whiney that seemed to be confirmation of the girl's statement. He grinned suddenly and bent down to place a small kiss on her forehead.

"I'm glad you never gave up, Lissie," he murmured some of her wind-swept hair catching in his mouth. "And I promise I shall do my best to find work."

She frowned slightly. "There's no need for that," she said. "You will finish your apprenticeship with my father and then he shall give the store to us." Her words were so factual and honest that he faltered for a moment.

"But I cannot. Not like this." And he gestured to where his left arm should have been listlessly.

"Don't say that," she scolded fiercely. "You can do it. I can help you. You are not helpless. We'll work in the shop together." She took his hand in both of hers and looked up into his face with an earnest expression he could not ignore. Very slowly he began to nod, knowing that she would not have it any other way.

"Very well then," he said, smiling at her stubbornness. Not much had changed in that regard. He drew her close to him and rested his chin on her head as her slender arms wrapped around him. "I'll do my best."

"Hmmm, good," was the only reply he got for then Mrs. Merriman called into the stable that supper was ready and waiting on the table for them. Felicity pulled away and led Penny back into her stall while he stood nearby and watched. Then, taking his hand, the girl led him back to the house.

"Just wait until Mother hears about this," she said with a wide grin. "She'll be absolutely delighted. Oh and Nan and Polly will want to help plan the wedding, and William will try to wreck havoc as always. But Elizabeth will make sure everything goes according to plan and—"

She proceeded to carry on in this vein for a while but he did not mind. A small smile began to grow on his lips as he listened to her, for suddenly she seemed her old self again, without the cares and worries the war had brought upon the town. He was glad he had returned, although a part of him had resisted for fear of shame and alienation, and reminded himself to thank Mr. Merriman for giving him a reason to stay. He supposed it was God's blessing that Felicity had found him in the snow and he told himself never to take such a small thing as a blessing of kindness and compassion for granted again. It had saved his life in more ways than one.

"Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing."

So yeah, sorry if it still feels rather rushed, but I did mess with the timeline and gave them some more time between when Ben first spoke with Felicity and when he proposed. Hopefully that makes things feel less abrupt. Review and tell me what you think! :-D