Author's Note: Ciao, Ragazzi! I am very sorry that it took a long time to get this chapter up, but no worries because it's here now. I promise to try and do more frequent updates. I also just wanted to say THANK YOU for all of the wonderful reviews. They have really made me happy and I'm glad you're all enjoying the story. To answer the question Minelava had: Of course you'll get to see Snow, Elias, Root, Stanton, and others as well. Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter Three

He was wasting his life away, somewhere in the village John sat alone as the people around him passed by. Most went on without noticing him but every once in a while someone would stop and hand him a copper piece or two.

John couldn't bring himself to understand why these people were even giving their money to someone like him, pity perhaps?

He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there, but none of that seemed to matter. His clothes were old and tattered, caked with sweat and dirt from days of going unwashed as he treading ground. In the same condition, his brown cloak wrapped around his, the hood hiding his grimy, unshaven face.

He sat there with dim eyes, an almost depleted bottle of ale at his side as his mind drifted off into a dark place that he wasn't sure he could ever come back from. Everything he cared about was lost to him. Betrayed and lied to, he drowned himself in liquid poison and tried to forget the days that could never be forgotten.

He made himself believe that the darkness is where a monster like him belonged.

.

.

.

He first met her in this darkness and with her came the feeling of the tinniest bit of something he thought was lost to him forever…

Hope.

A few men had tried to start up trouble with him that day. Thoughts clouded with too much to drink; the trio thought it would have been funny to play keep away with his ale. Of course, John had no choice but to teach them a lesson and punched one of them in the face. His friends didn't seem to appreciate that very much and retaliated. Being a bit drunk himself, John took too hits to his abdomen and tripped over an old crate. She and her knights were passing by and, not seeing how things had started, assumed he had been pushed. He didn't bother correcting their mistake.

As the knights shackled the troublemakers, John was helped up by a woman who carried herself in such a way that one could just tell she was someone important. She had flawless mahogany skin, long black tresses, a proud stature, and brown eyes that could speak volumes.—Though of course the royal attire was a giveaway to her position too.

Princess Jocelyn Carter.

Even back then she asked too many questions and he had told her nothing that would help her curiosity shrink. It took a bit for her to get the hint he wouldn't say much, but eventually she gave up and excused herself. To his surprise, before she walked away she slipped something into his hand and said: "Don't starve yourself to death."

He watched her leave, still holding on to the small leather pouch of coins she had given him with an intricate "J" sown into it.

And to his luck, she wasn't the only one who changed him.

It wasn't long after their encounter that he met a Mr. Harold Finch.

"I don't think you need a doctor or medicine, magic."

"What do I need?"

"You need a purpose."

At first he thought the man's offer was ridiculous and he hadn't wanted anything to do with it.

John walked away that day, annoyed and disinterested, but the man in the glasses was persistent and wouldn't stop until he agreed to help him.

"I think all you've ever wanted to do is protect people."

"You're not Monarchy?"

"No, I'm not. You couldn't have saved this woman or your friend, but I'm offering you a chance to be there in time, you can help me stop what's about to happen, before it happens, the question is will you?"

This man gave him a purpose, a job, and changed his life.

That was less than a year ago.

His life had improved since then, his mind was clearer and there were day he found himself smiling… but there were still some times he found himself alone, questioning his existence.

Now, however, was not the time for that.

Standing in the forest, black stallion by his side, John ran a hand down the animal's black fur and fed it an apple. Causally, he took a bite himself and listened as the sound of hooves pounding against the forest floor alerted him someone was coming his way.

Giving the rest of the apple to his horse, John turned to face the newcomer and his stead, nodding slightly in acknowledgement. Harold Finch was not the only man that the man in the black hood had come to know. John needed eyes on the inside, someone with connections that even Finch would have a hard times getting… and that is where this man came in. If it wasn't for him, John wouldn't have been seated so close to the Princess at Gracious' knighting celebration.

Mirroring the gesture, a stout man climbed off the back of his horse and grunted, "You'll have to make this quick, I'm late for Tinkerbell's lessons."

Understanding his situation, John got straight to the point "I was only able to delay the attack. We need to find out what he's up to and catch him before he gets to her again."

"You got a plan?"

He shrugged with a light smirk, "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve." He paused, wiping his hands of the last of the apple. "When you can I need you to see if you can dig up any information on Gracious." climbing up on to his black stead, he prepared to leave.

"And what are you going to do?" The stout man questioned as he mounted his horse as well.

"The same thing you are, Fusco. I'm going to get some answers."

xXx

Jocelyn aimed her bow and arrow across the field at an old wooden target. Pulling the string taunt, she took a deep breath and released. The arrow sailed through the air and hit the bull's eye dead on, a pleased smirk finding its way onto the princess' face.

The smirk dimmed, however, when she glanced at the sun. She had been waiting for Fusco for a while now, he was late for their session. It made her feel irritated and worried at the same time. Had something happened to him?

She retrieved another arrow and aimed it at the target again. This time when she released the shot was a little off but she still managed to split the first arrow. It was a trick Fusco taught her that she was still working on.

The sudden sound of clapping made Jocelyn turn around swiftly, bringing her face to face with the person who interrupted her focus.

"Excellent shot your Highness, but may I recommend shifting your stance just a bit? I could show you if you'd like."

Jocelyn frowned at the sight of Sir Gracious and his unwelcomed presence. He seemed be making it a habit to show up where he wasn't wanted. "Why are you here?"

Gracious moved a little close to her "Your Father sent me to look after you until Sir Fusco returns," He paused and looked around the open field. "Where ever he is. . . "

She watched him closely, thinking back to what that mysterious man said and the incident at the celebration. Jocelyn made sure to keep her distance, "Well you can leave, I don't want you here."

A look of mock hurt played across Gracious' face as he placed a hand over his heart. "Those are harmful words, Princess. All I am doing is following orders. I'm here to protect you"

"Well excuse me for finding that hard to believe." Jocelyn knew he wasn't going to try anything, there were too many guards on standby just out of earshot.

"Now, now my sweet Jocelyn, It would be against my code of chivalry if I were to hurt you. I would never hurt someone so important to the kingdom." Gracious began to slowly step toward her. Taking a step in the other direction, Jocelyn pointed her bow at him, ready to shoot.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you Princess, If you harm me, then you'll never know where your son is." He smiled coyly, his voice casual.

Jocelyn froze, her brow furrowed in confusion at the mention about her son. Her fingers slipped from the string, the arrow leaving the bow and flying past Gracious into a tree behind him giving him a bit of a scare. "What are you talking about?"

A distance away, John looked through his silver hand mirror, watching the exchange between Gracious and the princess. What he saw further confirmed that Gracious was up to no good.

He kept himself hidden in the forest that surrounded the large field. Just being near the castle was always a big risk so appearing out of nowhere to get Gracious away from the princess wasn't a bright idea. Especially since he and the royal guards weren't the best of friends.

Fortunately for him Fusco arrived just in time.

"Is there a problem here?" Fusco made his way toward the two, not liking the look that slightly marred Jocelyn's face. It was one of pure shock and confusion.

"Why of course not, I was just giving a few tips to her Highness." Gracious chuckled, holding his hands up in mock innocence. "Well, now that you have returned I shall take my leave." He smiled and turned his attention back to Jocelyn taking her hand in his to kiss her knuckles, making sure to keep eye contact. "Until we meet again."

They both watched him walk away until he disappeared into the castle. Exhaling, Fusco turned to Jocelyn who was still looking in the direction Gracious had gone off to. "Hey, you all right?"

Blinking, Jocelyn snapped out of her thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine." She took a deep breath to calm herself before grabbing another arrow from her leather arrow quiver. "You're late, what took you so long?"

"Yeah I know something came up and I had to take care of it."

Jocelyn nodded in understanding, "So, what are you teaching me today?" she said trying to change the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Staring at her pointedly, the knight pursed his lips. Fusco knew something was wrong but he decided to ask her about it after the lesson and give her a bit of time to gather herself. Scoffing, he pointed to her bow. "First of all, how many times do I have to tell you the correct way to shoot someone in the leg?"

xXx

"Mama, Mama! I's caught it!"

Jocelyn looked up from her spot on the stone bench, set down the book she was reading and smiled at the little four year old boy with curly hair as he ran toward her with his small hands clasped together. "What is it, Taylor? What did you catch?"

Taylor opened up his hand just a little bit and Joss could see the wings of a monarch butterfly. "It's a booterfly."

Jocelyn chuckled at her son's mispronunciation; she found it to be adorable "It's pronounced Butterfly, sweetie."

"That what I said, Mama. Booterfly."

"Okay, just be careful with it. You can hold it for a little while longer but you'll have to let it go."

"Aww, but why Mama?" the little boy pouted

"Well, you wouldn't want to be trapped forever would you?"

Taylor thought for a second before shaking his head "No that's bad, 'sides I won' get to sees you anymores"

"Yes that would be bad and I wouldn't want you to be trapped either. Do you want to know why?"

He tilted his head to the side and looked at her with curious eyes "Why?"

"Because I love you so much." Jocelyn chuckled and started tickling his sides.

Taylor tried to talk between fits of giggles "Okay, okay. I's let it go, I's let it go!"

Jocelyn stopped her playful attack and allowed him to release the butterfly. They watched it flutter off and land on a nearby bushel of flowers.

Taylor suddenly turned back to his mother and wrapped his small arms around her waist the best he could, "I love you too, Mama."

Jocelyn sat at her vanity dressed in her night gown while Grace brushed her hair. She hadn't realized that she had been staring at her reflection until Grace's poetic voice broke the silence.

"If you stare at it like that any longer you might burn a hole through it." Grace set the brush down on the vanity and looked at Jocelyn through the mirror. "You look exhausted."

Jocelyn smiled weakly, "That's because I am."

Grace, tilted her head thoughtfully, it was easy for her to see that Jocelyn wasn't tired, she was conflicted. She decided the best thing to do was to get the princess to sleep. "Come on, from what I can see you've had a long day and you need to rest—a lot of it."

Jocelyn didn't argue, and got up from her spot at the vanity to climb into bed. "Good night, Grace."

"Goodnight." Grace blew out the candles around the room before taking her leave and gently closing the door behind her.

Twenty minutes had passed and Jocelyn found herself having trouble going to sleep. Her mind was running a mile a minute and she just couldn't relax but then again who could relax after someone telling you they knew where your lost child was? She knew there was a very slim chance that he was going to tell her anything… and for all she knew he could have been lying. She needed to figure out what she was going to do before things got any worse.

Jocelyn sat up in bed and decided that she needed to get some fresh air and clear her head. She threw her covers off and got up out of bed. Going over to her large wardrobe, she pulled out an old tattered cloak and put it on along with a pair of old boots.

Quietly, she slipped out onto her balcony and kneeled down so the patrolling guards wouldn't see her. Waiting until they passed, she carefully climbed over the side of the balcony and grabbed a hold of the trellis going down the side of the wall, using it as a ladder. Once her feet touched the ground she had to stay low and out of sight until she reached the woods.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveler in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveler in the dark,-
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star."

Jocelyn sang to her son like he asked her to do almost every night. She could tell that he was getting tired by the way his eye lids kept shutting but he tried to fight it.

"Mama, can I ask you a question?" Taylor's voice was hush and his tired eyes were locked with hers.

"Of course you can." She soothingly ran her fingers through his hair.

"Did Papa ever love me?"

". . . Of course he did, why do you ask?"

"'cause I never got to see him before."

"Hold on I'll be right back." Jocelyn got up from the bed and walked over to her son's wardrobe. Reaching up on the top shelf, she grabbed a small box and returned to her spot on the bed. "I was going to wait until you were older, but I want you to have it now." She opened the box and pulled out a small round gold object with a chain attached to it and placed it in his small hands.

"What is it?" His little fingers traced the intricately engraved "T" on top.

"It's a compass. Before you were born your father had this made for you as a welcome to the world gift, but he never got the chance to give it to you himself."

"'cause of the war, right Mama? That's what grandpa told me."

She nodded and her eyes filled with unshed tear, but she dare not let them fall. Instead she replaced her sad look with a soft smile "Yeah, that's right. You know it's enchanted, so whenever you're lost it'll always bring you home, right back tome."

Taylor scooted closer to her finally letting sleep take over. Jocelyn stayed with him a little longer, lightly running her fingers through his hair.

After traveling her usual route she took when wanting to get away from the castle for a while she found herself standing outside an old tavern that seemed to be open late at night. Jocelyn made sure the hood of her tattered cloak was up and she kept her head down so no one would recognize her.

She walked inside and took a seat at a table in the very back. The tavern waitress took her order and it wasn't long before the waitress came back with a small mug of ale and left, leaving Jocelyn by herself as her mind once again filled with past memories.

The sound of loud thunder had jolted her from her peaceful slumber. Jocelyn sighed deeply and settled back down onto her bed, ready to go back to sleep. However her eyes snapped back open when she heard a cry for help, it was faint because of the stone walls but it was there. She then heard multiple footsteps run pass her door along with people shouting. What was going on?

Jocelyn quickly got out of bed, opening her door and pearling out into the hallway, she felt her heart drop. Royal guards and knights where running in the direction of Taylor room. Instantly, she followed.

It took her mere seconds to get there but what she saw terrified her. The guards as well as Szymanski and Fuso had their crossbows aimed at a masked intruder who had Taylor in his arms with a dagger at his throat.

"Let the prince go." Szymanski ordered.

The masked intruder laughed "Or what you'll shoot me? If you shoot me he dies."

Jocelyn knew she needed to stay calm but that was starting to become difficult knowing that her son could be taken away from her at any moment. "Please, let him go he's just a little boy you don't want to hurt him."

He pressed the dagger closer to Taylor's throat causing him to whimper "And what makes you think I don't?" The man's voice was deep and threatening.

Fusco looked at Jocelyn from the corner of his eye "You shouldn't be here it's too dangerous you need to leave."

His request fell on death ears as Jocelyn ignored him her attention still on the intruder "Why are you doing this?"

"Why? Because you took something that was precious to me, now I'm taking what's precious to you."

"Szymanski get her out of here!" Fusco didn't want here to be here if something went wrong.

Szymanski tried to grab onto Jocelyn's arm and pull her out of the room but she just yanked her arm out of his grasp.

"No! I'm not going anywhere." She was just getting mad now, frustrated even. What did this man mean? "I don't know what you're talking about, just let, my son, go."

"You don't remember? Well then that's too bad." Before anyone could stop him he disappeared in red smoke, crossbows were fired but missed and the last thing she heard was Taylor screaming for her.

"Mama!"

The sound of her son's terrified voice echoed throughout her mind, the memory haunted her. She had always told herself that Taylor was still alive and would come back to her someday. Now that there was a chance that he really could be alive and that made her even more determined to find him.

"Hello, Princess."

Jocelyn's thoughts were interrupted by a man in a black cloak sitting down across from her. She blinked in surprise.

That voice, that face, and those blue eyes were all too familiar; she was shocked that he was even here. "You're that nobleman from the celebration." Her brow furrowed realizing that he had just called her by her title. Her eyes scanned the tavern making sure no one over heard him, her gaze locked back with his. How did he find her? "Are you following me?"

He ignored her question and leaned forward "I know what's going on, and I can help you if you'll let me, but I need your help in return."

xXx

Gracious walked cautiously through the dark woods his only light source being the moon. Occasionally he would look behind him to make sure he wasn't being followed. He knew his superior would be upset with him for not getting rid of the threat to their plan that was the princess, but no worries; If getting someone to kill her was going to be difficult then perhaps he'll use a different tactic and get his use out of her, then kill her. He would reassure him that everything was under control and that he had nothing to worry about.

It wasn't long before he reached his destination in the woods where three men stood in the darkness.

The leader of the three stepped forward, "I was beginning to think that you weren't going to show up."

"I had some things to take care of."

"Did you get rid of her?"

"No, the mercenaries failed to assassinate her, but I've come up with a plan." He grinned, "Don't worry, everything is under control."

The leader stared at him long and hard through his spectacles "You better, Nephew. I would hate to see one of my favorites disposed of. "

"You have my word, Uncle Elias."