The forest filtered the sunlight in golden patches, encouraging the wild flowers to clump. Dew made a mockery of diamonds on the thick leaves of the trees and plants that littered the cool, damp earth. Eleanor had risen early to hunt for the ripest strawberries, accompanied by two little white mice and her horse. In the two years since her father's passing she'd grown more wild. Lady Tremaine was too preoccupied with her fragile, needy daughters to pay her much mind beyond her demands. She didn't care if Ella let her hair grow loose and free, lightened by the sun. When her fingers were too raw from laundering with lye to play her beloved piano, her stepmother waved her quickly away.

"I don't want you getting blood on it, stupid girl. If your hands are so damaged you can't play, then don't you dare touch the embroidery needles. Can you imagine what that filth would do to Anastasia's hard work?" Ella merely suckled on the tips of her fingers and wisely said nothing about the hideous mess of tangled knots and frayed thread. Every day was much the same, and when she was too exhausted to climb the seemingly infinite stairs to her attic, she nestled herself in the boughs of her mother's tree, or the warmth of the fireplace. Even if she did glean the horrible nickname of 'Cinderella', at least she was already in the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

She'd made quick work of a breakfast of boiled eggs, salty slabs of bacon, oats swimming in cream and thick slices of freshly made bread drenched in honey. Ella was happy enough with their leftovers. She served her stepmother and stepsisters coffee and tea before scrubbing her face and combing out her hair, allowing herself a shred of pride at the way it gently tumbled down her back. Her light blue dress had been fashioned from a pair of drapes her stepmother was keen to be rid of, but unfortunately there was only enough fabric for sleeves that rested at her elbows, and a skirt that kept itself just below her knees. The few holes it boasted were easily covered by her apron.

Whenever the opportunity presented itself, she went barefoot.

She had gathered a fairly decent amount of wild mushrooms and was valiantly following the direction of the mice (and the odd squirrel) who put in their two cents when it came to strawberries, when she heard a horrified scream and the mad clatter of hooves. She whirled around for the source, and was nearly blindsided by an anxious stallion barreling past. "Wait," Ella called to it, urging her own mount forward. The mare beneath her trembled as they lurched into a gallop. "Stop! You're frightening him!" From the look of the horse's limp, it would be stopping soon anyway. At her urgent command though, it stumbled to an uneasy halt and its rider fell. Ella fairly flew to his side, her heart lurching at the idea of discovering a body. With both horses quietly standing off to the side, the larger chestnut favoring his hind left, the young girl knelt to see who's death she might have witnessed.

Instead, the ashen face of an unconscious boy greeted her. There was a cut on his forehead, most likely from his tumble, and the blood dripped in his ear. She smoothed his auburn hair from it and he turned toward her touch, groaning. He couldn't be much older than she was, maybe fifteen, and his clothes were an odd assortment of things that fit and things that didn't. Ella hadn't felt that anyone was a kindred spirit until she saw the patches on his too short pants, and the way his sleeves swallowed his hands. Ever so carefully she settled down beside him and pulled his head onto her lap. "Hush now, you're safe," She murmured, humming to him the way she remembered her mother doing when she was ill.

The boy slept for the better part of the morning, well until the day was getting warm. Ella sang and wiped his face clean with handfuls of water from the nearby stream. When he finally did wake, bleary eyed and wincing, she helped him drink until he could take a good look at her. Then she granted him a smile.

"I thought you'd never wake up. How do you feel?"

"S-sore," He mumbled, rubbing at the egg-sized lump on his head. "Where am I?"

"You're in the forest, about six miles from the main town. What's your name?" She asked, helping him gently to his feet. "Do you know where you live?"

"Ah, I...I think so?" His expression clouded as she helped him onto her horse and mounted behind him. With a quick whistle she summoned the stallion, who plodded dutifully behind them. "I...I live in...my father works in...the castle?"

"Really? The castle?" She frowned at his clothes. "Well, I suppose they have people to clean there as well. Or maybe you worked in the stables?"

"Hunter," He said, slumping against her. She gently shook him awake. "My name, um, I'm Hunter,"

"You can't sleep, Hunter," Ella encouraged. "You hit your head pretty hard. I'm Eleanor,"

"Eleanor?"

"Mhm. I live nearby. Come on, we'll get you to the castle. If you father works there, then he can get you safely home,"

They had to go slowly, which meant it took longer to get into the center of town than she'd like. She made pointless chatter to keep the boy awake, and although his head lolled against her he mumbled responses when they were necessary. Every now and then she chastised the horse plodding behind them. Its head hung sorrowfully, grieved by its behavior. Although it didn't say a word in reply, she knew the guilt would likely last for years.

As they entered the town, Eleanor began to draw the eyes of those in the market. Wives paused to look at the golden haired young lady who sat straight as an arrow on her small mare. The baker and cobbler took a closer glance at the boy slumped in her arms, with a streak of crimson along the side of his face and matting his hair. The children whispered feverishly about the limping horse that followed them without a lead, and when Ella directed their path towards the castle the crowd flocked behind them. Ever so carefully Ella walked them up to the nearest guard, who immediately drew his sword.

"Please, sir, I need to speak with someone in the castle. Hunter was out riding and I -" She cried out in surprise as a guard she hadn't seen pulled her roughly from atop the horse, nearly toppling Hunter as well. All at once it was a calamity. Guards rushed forward to seize not only Hunter's horse, but her own! One of them held her roughly by the wrist while two others lifted Hunter into their arms and made their way over past the gates and into the castle. "Wait! He's hurt! He fell from the horse and hit his head on something!"

"What did you want with him? Was it you who lured him into the woods?"

"Lured him? No, sir, you don't understand. I saw Hunter riding by on his horse, and it threw him and I -"

The blow to her cheek stung madly, and she tasted the acrid bite of blood that welled in her mouth. She'd never been hit so forcefully, and for a moment she wasn't sure whether it was her skin or her pride that was more deeply wounded.

"Who is it you're working for? Were you hoping for a reward?"

Ella struggled to make sense of his words. All at once her vision swam through a veil of tears and she found everything spinning. Were it not for the man's horrible grip on her arm she might have fallen right there. "N-no, I found him...found him riding..." The girl slurred, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Lady Tremaine would be so angry! If she were imprisoned, she might never see her home again! What would the animals do without her? Mother's tree would wither and die and...and...

It was too much. Darkness swallowed the face of the now befuddled guard, and her lithe body slumped in his arms.


"Eleanor? Ella, darling, you must wake up now," The voice was gentle and not completely foreign. It pulled her from the blackness of her unconscious mind, and when she came to she found herself in an expansive kitchen. Women hurried here and there with bowls and pots and steaming trays. A roaring fire blackened several chicken carcasses, which a young boy was half-heartedly spinning. The fat dripping into the flames hissed and spattered on his arms occasionally to wake him. Above her head hung sprigs of dried herbs and flowers; some reserved for tea and others for the apothecary. The woman kneeling beside her was bespeckled in flour and dried flakes of dough. Her kind eyes were met by her smile.

"Where am I?" Ella asked, sitting up on a thin cot placed close to the hearth. A kettle whistled nearby and a sour faced woman plucked it from the coals with her bare hands.

"The castle kitchen. I was just coming from the market when I heard the commotion outside the gates. You're lucky I walked up when I did. I was able to give them your name, and the name of your father, an put things right again. He was always happy to supply the kitchen with whatever we needed. Who was it you brought back, dear?" She passed Ella a small, half-burned tart and a mug of sharp cider, which she was quick to devour.

"A boy. One of the castle hunters boys, I think. His horse had an injured leg and threw him," She sipped at the cider. "Do you know if he's alright?"

"Right as rain, lamb. I was told to give this to you," The baker woman brought out a small, golden ring and pressed it into her palm. "For you, and no one else. That boy is much beloved here, and isn't supposed to leave the castle grounds. I let them know about your stepmother, and that she might be angry for you being gone so long, and got this as well," She handed her a small bag of coins, which Ella merely stared at. A gold ring and five gold coins?

"For returning a servant's son? This...this is too much..." She tried to pass it back, but the woman shook her head.

"You will tell Lady Tremaine you recognized the insignia of the Crown on the horse's saddle, and thought it might be a thief. You brought the boy and the horse back to the castle, and this was your reward. Do you understand?"

Ella nodded.

"Right then. Let's get you home,"