The next day dawned bright and sunny, exactly the opposite of the last day, and of Bardic's current state of mind. Waking, he immediately looked around, looking to see if Rella had joined them in the night.

The only others there were the faeries, having a worried conference on the other side of the remains of last night's campfire.

Scowling, he rose from his bedroll, ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to look half-decent despite his restless night, and walked over to join the faeries.

"Any idea what happened to Rella?" he asked, seating himself in an empty space by the fire remains.

Ruby simply shook her head, looking worried. Emerald put her head in her hands, and sighed. "She's in trouble," was all she said. "We know that. The only question is...where is she?"

Bardic found he was trembling. "You two should be able to do something," he snapped. "You ought to be able to find her. We have her packs, maybe we can find something of hers in there! Why don't you two try looking?!"

He realized the two faeries were staring at him, and he'd been nearly yelling. Blinking, he took a deep breath. "I'm...I'm sorry. I just..." Rising, he walked to the edge of the clearing, banging his fist against a tree and leaning against it. "Dammit all," he muttered softly under his breath.

Sun was shining, shining on her face. Startled, Rella realized she was awake.

Should I get up? she wondered. No, I don't think I'll get up.

"Hey!" a voice exclaimed, somewhere nearby.

Rella sat bolt upright, and then gasped with the pain that the sudden movement sent flashing throughout her body. It was amazing how much she hurt.

"Hey, lady!" the voice persisted. "What the hell happened to you?"

Looking around carefully for the source of the voice, she spotted a small boy on the other side of the clearing, dressed in little but rags. Annoyed, she recognized him as the street rat that had tried to steal her purse when she went to the market. Although it had been little but two months ago, it seemed like another lifetime.

"What do you want?" she asked, shivering and wrapping her arms around herself, in both an effort to warm herself and an effort to conceal her naked body.

"What happened to ya?" he repeated, sounding infinitely patient.

Losing her patience, she snarled at him. "I got raped by some royal asshole that thinks he owns the universe, alright?! I'm cold, naked, hungry, and I hurt, all over. I would really appreciate it if you could leave me the hell alone!"

He blinked, staring at her. "Gee...I'm sorry, lady. Say, I said I'd do somethin' for ya, ifn' I could. Anythin' I could get ya? Ya know, clothes, food, somethin' like tha?"

Sighing, she rubbed her arms, trying without success to warm them. "I guess...get me some clothes. I don't care what, and I don't care how, just get me something to wear. If I eat I'm probably going to throw up."

The young boy nodded cheerfully and scurried off, leaving her on her own again. Sighing, she looked towards her dress. The beautiful thing was now nothing better than rags, ripped in a hundred places. Her underclothes had been hastily discarded beside it, and they had long rips in them too.

Staring at the remains of her clothes, memories of the night before came rushing back in. Rolling over, she saw blood lying where she had been laying--her blood. She couldn't keep it in any longer. Holding her face above the mud, she vomited.

That done, she climbed to her feet, shaking unsteadily, and tried to balance on both feet. Her right ankle sent a stab of pain up her leg so intense that she gasped, lost her balance, and fell over again, landing right in the center of the mud.

Aching, she looked at her ankle morosely. Twisted, if I'm lucky. Knowing my luck, though, it's probably broken. Sighing, she took account of her injuries. She knew she had gigantic bruises all over her face, and most likely a bloody nose as well. For the most part, the rest of it was more bruises, or just aches and pains.

Not too bad, I suppose. She gulped, making herself hold in the tears that threatened to go pouring down her cheeks.

The thief returned in record time, holding a plain white shirt and tan breeches that he handed to her silently, and then scurried off. She knew they were no doubt stolen, but couldn't have cared less at the moment. Pulling them on, she couldn't help but feel slightly more decent, despite the fact that she was still covered in mud and blood, her hair was knotted and filled with more mud and blood, she had bruises all over, and she still hurt.

Taking a deep breath, she did her best to walk. She made herself put weight on her right ankle, because she had to; it hurt like hell, but it was better than lying there in the mud waiting for someone to rescue her. Bardic and the faeries were the only ones that were likely to rescue her, and who was to say whether they even knew where she was?

She walked for an eternity, slow and plodding, right ankle hurting intensely every time she put weight on it. She sternly screwed her face and didn't give in to the impulse to let tears spill down her cheeks--she would not cry. Her pride wouldn't let her.

It seemed to take hours before she at last found the familiar campsite. A very familiar form was standing near the edge of the clearing, his back to her. The faeries rose to their feet, seeing her; Bardic, seeing the faeries staring over his shoulder, turned.

It was the last straw. "Bardic," she whispered, and stumbled forward, collapsing. But Bardic was there, and he caught her firmly in his arms, and simply held her, and let her cry.

Several minutes later, she was warm at last, wrapped in one of their blankets and sitting in front of a merrily blazing campfire, head resting on Bardic's shoulder. She couldn't help but be grateful for his supporting arm around her shoulders; without it, she would likely have fallen over, she was so exhausted. After having walked so far, she wasn't too sure she could move even if she had to.

The faerie's concerned faces hovered on the other side of the campfire, watching her worriedly. She knew they wanted to know what had happened to her, and when she thought about it, she couldn't really blame them; after all, here she was, having been missing for a day and then stumbling into their campsite, covered in mud, hair hopelessly matted, limping when she walked on her right foot.

She would have told them, but she didn't think she had the energy to right now. Wrapped in a blanket, warmed by the flickering fire, with Bardic's arm warm and comforting around her, she could hardly keep her eyes open. Yawning, she snuggled her head into the crook of Bardic's neck and closed her eyes, letting her weariness overcome her at last.

"Rella, don't--" Emerald's voice started to say.

"No, let her sleep," she heard Bardic say. She would have thanked him, but she was already drifting off into a dreamless slumber.

"Shouldn't we at least hear what happened to her?" Emerald demanded of Bardic, glaring indignantly at him.

"Not right now," Bardic told her firmly, returning the glare. "She's exhausted, and she needs the rest. She can tell us in the morning."

"He's right, Emerald," Ruby put in. "Let the poor dear sleep."

He slid an arm under her legs, rising and picking her up with him. She was far too light, and the thought occurred to him that he needed to make sure she ate something when she woke up. Walking to her bedroll, he laid her down gently inside, tucking the blanket in around her. Smoothing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes, he whispered, "Sleep," and returned to his place around the campfire.

A/n: On a side note, you might have noticed that the story takes sort of a different turn from the Prince's ball onwards. Darker, for one thing. More adult, definitely. I also think I did a better job of writing this part of the story than I did the first part. Well, whatever. Oh, and in a chapter or two, we're going to have unabashed fluff. This is a good thing. ^_^