"Now she's falling hard, she feels the fall of dark, how did this fall apart." Dave, The dreaming tree

            He had simply never came back.  She didn't know why she let it bother her.  It shouldn't, she told herself.  It was silly.  But then she had been so sure that he was telling the truth when he told her that he…  well, she refused to think about it now.  For the first week she had done nothing but wait for him with misty eyes and a hopeful heart.  Excuses for his absence came willingly to her lips.  Something must be wrong she told herself.  Not even before the enchanted princess and that blasted hellish sleep had he missed so much as two days without at least sending some teasing message to her. 

            Nothing came.  After the first week, she felt well enough to go into the village, though she still clutched dearly to the tall staff that eased the pain caused from her fall from Wilson, to sit silently and weave her stories for all who would listen.  Though her patrons were quick to pick up on the sorrow tinged voice, and the way her stories seemed to be laced with a melancholy that had never been there before. 

            After two weeks had passed without a single word from the Prince, Elaine seemed to fall back into her self.  Her stories lost their sorrow; her voice lost its melancholy.  To those in the village who knew her best (who were also few and far between) she was healed.  But to old Damian, who had been watching her closely, letting her be alone, but never leaving her out of sight, she was very far from it.

            Damian strode through the woods with a purpose.  He rapped on Elaine's door with three urgent, demanding knocks, and stood, arms folded across chest, scowl glued permanently in place, in wait for hiding princess. 

            "Damian.  I haven't seen you for a while.  Come in."  Which he did.  Still scowling, he spoke.

            "This is the first time in your life in which I have not been there to help you through it.  Am I right?"

            Looking down at her hands she replied, "Yes.  You're right.  You've always been there, at least in my dreams.  You're the closest thing to a father I've ever really had." 

            Damian's scowl lessened, softened to an impassiveness that was, while less threatening, was still commanding.  She continued.  "Why, when I've needed you now, have you not come to help me."

            "I've come to help you now girl.  But I can't do all the work!  I never have!  All I've ever done is show up, a dream vision with a few consolatory words.  You, dear girl, have made all the decisions, trusted every instinct, faced every challenge with a fierceness that a hundred armies would cower under."  He had moved toward her and placed his hand on her shoulder.  With the other, he reached up to lift her lowered chin and look her in the eye.  "Where is that Elaine?  Has she given up?  I can't believe it.  I won't.  You saved your friend weeks ago when you stood up to a powerful magical creature.  Her beauty and bitterness never frightened you.  If you had not stood up to that bewitched princess, then Prince Jon would be trapped with her, in that timeless forest forever."

            Elaine thought over his words.  She had never been the weak one.  She had lived her life on the run, hiding from the past she never knew, and had tried to make up for this (what she had always seen as cowardice on her part) by being brave in every other area of her life. 

            Damian could see that fierce light spark up in her eyes and knew that he had reached her somehow.  Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead gently.  "I love you daughter."  Purposefully, he turned on his heals and strode from the cottage.  As he closed the door he let himself brood over matters.  He saw this little mission as a success.  If she had remained in her funk she would never have the courage to do what she was going to have to do.  He hoped that he had spurred her on, that he had restored the confidence that she would need in the near future.  He allowed himself a small chuckle thinking, it sure doesn't take much. 

            Elaine sat down slowly and carefully, her gaze falteringly forward, her back as straight as a board.  She hadn't been herself lately.  She hadn't let herself feel the magic that she had always been able to sense around her since she was able to discern it's subtle difference from the wind, from breathing, from the colors of the sky or the songs of birds.  But now she opened herself up to it again.  It was funny; she had used this strange ability to sense the magic that surrounded the enchanted princess and her lifeless bower.  It had then been the princess's magic that had ultimately brought Elaine and the Prince together, which had then turned dreadful by his conspicuous absence, and then had led to her shutting herself off from the ability to feel magic.  She started laughing at the complexities and senseless circles of life.  Laughing led to tears shed in agonizing sobs.  But when she had done with crying, she was left with only herself.  And Elaine knew that that was all she needed.

            The next day found a very determined young girl, with dark curling hair and dark gypsy eyes sneaking into the royal stables.  She had put on her drabbest skirt, dirt brown in color, and her most boring shirt, a whitish color that had dulled from it's fresh crisp color to an old beige.  She hated these clothes, and usually only wore them during spring-cleaning.  But today she wanted to blend it, to be lost in the dull monotones of the countryside.  Today she had a purpose, and would do whatever it took to accomplish it successfully. 

            She strode into the low roofed, clean white stable like she belonged there, like only a fool would question her being there.  She inhaled the fresh, sweet scent of hay as she looked tentatively into each of the boxed off stable rooms where the horses were kept.  She wanted to see if Wilson was there.  She had come up with the bright idea that the Prince might have been sent off somewhere by his father.  And the prince would go nowhere without his horse.  So to the stables she had trudged to prove to herself that Wilson was not there, and so logically, neither was his owner. 

            "Excuse me.  Miss?"  A short boy of about sixteen had caught a glimpse of stiff brown skirt as he had entered the barn and Elaine had turned the corner.  "Excuse me, but I don't believe you should be in here."

            She was caught.  Slowly turning around, she put on an expression of the deepest frustration.  "I… I'm sorry.  I'm lost you see."  She had no idea where she was going with this. 

            "Ah, you must be one of the Princess Rene's ladies in waiting."  The young boy eyed her up and down.  He had never seen this one before.  He had heard that Princess Rene kept only plain or ugly girls about to serve her, to make her own beauty even more obvious.  But all that could have just been rumor.  Because this girl certainly was not ugly, nor even close to plain.  He'd definitely like a chance with the lost, dark haired beauty if he could have it. 

            "Umm. Yes… Princess Rene.  She sent me down here to make sure that a horse was prepared for her when she goes for a ride.  She wishes to use the best horse in the stables.  Wilson I believe she said.  She wanted to ride some horse by the name of Wilson."

            "Well that's a bit unusual." The young stable hand furrowed his brow together and leaned a shoulder against the wooden wall.  "The Princess usually comes and prepares a horse herself.  In fact, I came in from my work outside in the back just to prepare for her.  She usually comes about now, but you know that of course.  But I suppose she must be busy.  Since she sent you and all."

            "Yes.  That's it. Busy.  So I suppose we should saddle up Wilson for her highness."

            "But no one but the Prince uses Wilson.  And he hasn't come to ride the old boy for weeks.  He's shut himself up in the library I heard.  But hey, I suppose you know better about the goings on of the inside of the castle don't ya.  Bet you could tell me all about it."  The young boy's eyes glazed over in the excited stupor that takes over when one is about to hear a juicy bit of gossip, and Elaine could think of nothing at all to say.  But she didn't have to, for at that moment the two were interrupted by a high-pitched, yet musical voice… screeching. 

            "Nathan!!" yelled the voice.  "Nathan!  Do you have Ilda saddled and ready?"  The voice turned the corner to reveal the most exquisitely dressed woman the world has ever seen.  Her dress was so ornate and beautiful that it almost overshadowed the woman inside of it.  Almost.  She was something else.  Her hair was raven black and her eyes were a shade of blue that defied description.  Her skin was milky white, a stark contrast to her dark locks, and her every chiseled feature sang of perfection.  She was slim and elegant and perfect. 

            But Elaine only saw a fleeting glimpse of the ethereal creature.

            "Your highness," said the stable boy, bowing low, averting his eyes.  "I did not think you would be here so soon."

            "And why is that?  I am here the same time every day.  You should know by now."

            "It's just that one of your ladies in waiting came.  She said that you were busy and that she had come to saddle up Wilson for you."

            "One of my ladies in waiting?  I sent no one here.  Where is the girl?" Both looked around, but only one was surprised to see that the lady in question was no longer present.  A single perfectly manicured brow arched high over a glittering sapphire eye.  She decided to let the subject drop.  It had nothing to do with her plans for the moment.  She followed a rather different train of thought than the one the very confused stable boy was headed down.  "But Wilson does need to be saddled.  The Prince will be joining me today."  Princess Rene turned her back to the clearly stunned stable boy just as a lopping prince Jon entered the stable doors.  He said nothing as the princess took both his hands in hers and thanked him profusely for condescending to ride with her this afternoon.  She was so delighted at the prospect of finally getting to know him a bit better before their nuptials, which were slightly more than a week away. 

            Prince Jon simply shrugged her off with a polite nod and a slight bow and turned his attention to the horse he had been seriously neglecting for quite some time. The stable boy stood stock still, not moving to help either of them, and though this bothered Jon not at all, it rather perturbed the Princess.  Prince Jon was roused from his zombie like stupor when Princess Rene's shrieking reached new heights. 

            "What's all this about?" he cut in, quickly silencing the ever reddening princess. 

            "This dolt just stands there, never once offering his services to his future queen!"

            "I'm sorry, miss.  I'm so sorry Prince Jon.  It's just, she disappeared so quickly."  The poor boy really was quite stunned by the vanishing act that had been pulled on him.  You seen, he was an especially romantic sort of fellow, and had, even in the short time he had been in Elaine's presence, been imagining all sorts of outings and words of praise he would say to her to make her fall madly in love with him.  And her abrupt departure had seemed to him like some sort of evil prank straight from a fairy story.  And it was all so incredibly unfair!

            "She?  Who?"  Asked the prince.  Visions of dark haired gypsies had been plaguing him all morning and he wondered, though he knew not why, if these visions were catching. 

            "She said that she was the princess's lady in waiting.  But I didn't think she could be."

            "Why not?"  The young boy cast an apprehensive glance at the stately woman standing impatiently beside them.  Her foot made a dull tapping sound in the clean dirt that strew the floor of the stables.  Her lips were pursed together in a seriously agitated manner, and her eyes could have thrown darts.  Poisoned darts.  Prince Jon gulped.  "Here, Princess, let me ready your horse for you.  Then you can begin your morning ride, and I'll catch up with you later.  I can't very well let the help be spooked by ghost girls.  Their work might suffer.  I can't very well let that happen."  He said all this while grabbing the side saddle mounted on the wall beside the mare, Ilda, that Princess Rene had made her own while staying in Caraway.  He had Ilda saddled and ready to go before the princess could make a word of protest.

            "But Prince Jon.  We were to ride together today."  She said this as if she was somehow being cheated at a card game. 

            "And… we will.  But I have to think of my duties first of course.  I know you understand." And with that, he slapped the rear of the horse, and it shot out of the stable, toppling the ornate and feathered hat that had sat precariously atop the princess's mound of curls, off of her head.  The prince then walked casually over to Wilson, stable boy in tow, and started to brush his old friend.  The calming, rhythmical motion soothed horse, prince, and stable boy, so that the interrogation could begin.

            "So.  This girl.  Why did you not think she was one of the Princess's maids?"

            "She was too pretty your majesty.  I've heard that Princess Rene keeps her maids plain; so that they don't over shadow her own beauty.  Not that any woman could overshadow your future wife my lord."  The prince just shrugged this off.

            "What did she look like?"

            "She was wearing very plain clothes.  But they couldn't hide how pretty she was."  The young boy smiled at the remembrance.  Maybe the prince would help him find her.  "She had long, dark, curly hair.  It wasn't as dark as the princess's hair, or as curly, but it was more natural. It just hung about her shoulders and down her back."

            The prince just nodded and continued to brush Wilson.  He knew the hang of every curl on her head.  The boy continued.

            "And she had dark eyes.  Very dark eyes.  And her skin was tanned.  Not so white as the princess's, not near as white.  You could tell that this girl is outside in the sun often.  She had white pretty teeth and probably a very beautiful smile."  Both young man and prince stopped.  The talking stopped, the brushing stopped, and both besotted males just stared into space.  The prince shook his head clear first.

            "Yes, a very beautiful smile indeed.  And… what was it that she wanted?"

            "Well, she wanted me to saddle up Wilson for the princess.  Which I thought was odd.  But I would have done it if she'd have smiled for me."  The young boy smiled at the prince.  "A man'll do anything for a pretty smile you know.  And of course your princess has the best smile."  But the prince was not listening.  He did not wish to talk about Princess Rene, he wished to talk about disappearing gypsy girls.

            "And she just disappeared?  How long ago?"

            "As soon as the princess walked through the doors.  Ya know, I don't believe she really was one of the princess's maids," the boy confided quietly to the prince.  The prince confided ever quieter,

            "No, she wasn't.  Tell the princess I was called away on urgent business in the village."

            "Yes'sir.  Urgent business. Sir… do you know the girl?"  The prince saw the look in the stable boy's eyes at this.  He knew that he had lost the girl even before he had even had her. 

            "Nick… would you like to be in on a little secret?  Can I trust you?"

            "Yes sir! Of course you can!"  The prince hoped that helping the pretty young "lady in waiting" would be enough for the young boy, that if he was romantic enough to fall in love at first site, then he would grasp onto this little piece of romantic storytelling and run with it whole heartedly.

            "Nick, the lady you saw is the other half of my heart.  I can only guess that she came to here to find out what happened to me.  Of course you and I know, that the princess has happened to me.  But she doesn't know that.  You see, I don't love the princess.  Not one bit.  And I've been so caught up for the past weeks, trying to figure out how to get out of this marriage, that I've sort of forgotten to tell this girl my plans.  I have to tell her now.  Who knows what she thinks is going on.  She may hate me.  So will you tell Princess Rene my little white lie?  I will never forget your kindness to me.  And neither will Elaine."

            Elaine, so that was her name, thought Christopher the stable boy.  It was a beautiful name.  And such a beautiful and sad story to go with it.  No wonder she wasn't smiling.  She probably thought her love was dead or worse, in love with a snobbish princess!  "You can count on me Prince Jon.  I completely understand.  Besides, the Princess never even gets my name right.  She calls me Nathan." Nick made a face as prince Jon extended a hand of friendship to the younger boy.  There was a hint of disappointment in young Nick's eyes.  But the Prince still felt that he could trust him.  He was a young romantic, and there was no better person in the world to trust with a secret of the heart.

            Prince Jon mounted Wilson and sped out of the stables and into the forest, while Nick began concocting the best lie for the prince that he could.

            After a short full out gallop, Prince Jon slowed his horse down to a slow walking pace.  And when he spotted fleeting glimpses of a white shirt through the never changing summer browns and greens of the forest, he dismounted Wilson and walked, leading the horse by a soft leather rein. 

            She never heard him as he as he walked up behind her.  She was so deep within her own thoughts that she didn't even hear the noisy hoof beats or Wilson's soft neigh. 

            "Elaine."  She didn't even hear his call.  He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder.

            "Ahhhhh!"  Elaine jumped five feet in the air, throwing her hands over her mouth and Prince Jon collapsed into a useless heap of laughing on the forest floor.  "What were you doing!" she screamed.  "You can't just sneak up on someone like that!

            The prince gulped for air and pushed words out between fits of laughter.  "What do you mean sneak up?!  I was making a racket!  I thought you were just ignoring me."  She glared at him as he finished laughing and then turned to continue back home, this time with a prince on her heels.  "Elaine. Elaine! Wait!"  She kept walking.  "I know you're mad at me." He had caught up with her now and matched his pace to hers.

            "I'm not mad at you.  And I wasn't ignoring you.  I was just trying to figure it all out."

            "Figure what out?"

            "Well, that was my… my sister.  Wasn't it?  The Princess Rene."

            "Yes.  That was her."

            "Is she here for a visit… or"

            "Or."  Both of their steps lengthened and slowed.

            "And you've been hiding in the library?  Is she really that bad?  Or is that the way you treat all your bride's to be?"

            "I've been trying to figure out a way to get out of this marriage Elaine.  You know I don't have the slightest inclination to marry her." He stopped her and forced her to look him in the eyes.  "Tell me you know that."

            "I know." She wasn't about to tell him about those few horrible weeks in which she had doubted him.  She had only realized last night that no matter where he was, he was hers.  It had been something Damian had said to her about always trusting her intuition, her instinct.  That was when she had decided to find out what had happened to the Prince for herself.  "How come no one in the village is talking about it?  I've been back at work for a week and… I've not heard a word about the happy event.  You'd think it would be the talk of the town."

            "No one is talking about it?  That's strange.  My father wasted no time in announcing it to the world.  And her parents, especially her mother, are very eager for it to happen also."  He stopped here when it belatedly struck him that the Princess Rene's parents were Elaine's parents too.  An eager mother for one sister was a death threat to the other. 

            She ignored his last comment. "So, I guess you haven't quite found a way to get out of all this have you?  If you had you would've come to tell me sooner."

            "I'm sorry.  Very sorry that I never even sent you word.  I should have let you know the minute my father told me.  I… I don't think there's any way I can get out of this without causing a war."  He stopped but Elaine didn't.  After a couple paces further, she turned around and spoke.

            "I've always known that we could never be married Jon.  It was part of the reason I was so scared to admit that I loved you.  I didn't want what has happened to happen; to spend a day or two together and happy, until the inevitable and unavoidable comes.  We've both known that you were betrothed since birth.  It's just a very painful irony that your betrothed just happens to be the sister I've never known, who is worshiped by the mother who wants me dead."  Elaine let loose a tiny, dry laugh with no hint of a smile behind it.  "I know that there are other… 'options'.  But I'm better than those options.  I won't be anyone's mistress.  Not even yours.  And if that means that I'll spend my life alone, then so be it.  I was fully prepared never to fall in love and to always be alone before you meddled in my life.  However did you worm your way into my heart, let alone my eyesight, you pompous little prince."  Her last words were playful, teasing, begging him to lighten the mood.  But the prince's attention had abruptly wandered elsewhere during the beginning of her speech.  She waved her hand quickly back and forth in front of his eyes.  "yoo hoo. Prince Jon."  He came to with a start. 

            "Yes, yes.  I was just trying to absorb all that."  He thought for a second, finger touched lightly to his chin, "lets walk for a while.  I have some things to say to you, and I need to collect my thoughts."  Elaine agreed, and silently, they walked until they reached the tiny, warm spring that ran noisily behind her cottage.  Prince Jon pulled Elaine down into the grass beside him, remembering the last time he had sat beside her like this.  But he quickly pushed thoughts of that deserted dream field from his head; he didn't need that fear now. 

            "Several points," he said briskly, adapting a very business like tone.  "First, I would never think of degrading you so by taking you as a mistress.  I will stay faithful to whoever I marry, whether I love her or not."  Elaine believed this whole-heartedly.  "Second, have hope.  There is still a week until the wedding and I'm sure to find a way out of this by then.  Especially with you helping me now.  And last," Now he dropped the serious façade and let a mischievous glint into his eye. "What was it you were so scared to admit?  I've been wondering if I heard you right."  Elaine gave him a questioning look.  She was a little confused as to what he was talking about.

            "What do you mean?"

            "Well, you said that you had always known that we could never marry.  And that it was one of the reasons that kept you from admitting that you… here's where I get fuzzy.  Where I think I might have heard wrong.  What was it you said?  That you were afraid to admit?"

            He was teasing her now and she knew it.  He knew how hard it was for her to admit that she needed someone; and how it was even so much harder for her to say it.  She thought about teasing him back.  It's what she would normally do.  Tease him mercilessly until she had him frustrated almost to death, and then finally give him what he asked for.  But time was short.  One week.  That was all they had.  Somehow teasing seemed a waste of time.  Even though it was great fun.  Decisions, decisions.

            Taking a deep breath, she looked straight up into his dark eyes with a look so defiant and strong that he almost took back his probing questions.  Almost.  For the prince was a fighter also.  And he wanted, more than anything, for her to say those words. 

            "Fine," She finally said in defeat.  Telling herself that she was going to say it anyway and that she hadn't really lost. "I was scared to admit that I love you." 

            "Meaning that…"

            "Are you going to make me say it?"

            "If I don't have some sort of genius revelation within eight days, then I'll need those three words to live off of for the rest of my life!  I insist you say it!"  She glared at him, but he just glared right back.  They were both on the defensive.  The prince knew that there was only one way to win the battle now.  He had picked up on the strange fact that his Elaine was overcome by a strange weakness when he called her by her nickname.  So he softened his expression, pulled out the puppy dog eyes, and whispered one tiny word.  "Gypsy?"  It was a question.  It was a statement.  It was a thousand things in two tiny syllables.  Gypsy rolled her eyes, mumbled something about cheating, and then pulled the corners of her lips into a small smile. 

            "I love you."

            He barely heard it, she had whispered it so softly, but those quietly mumbled words were all he really wanted anyways.