A/N: Alright, longest chapter yet! *Throws a party* Lmfao, riiight. Moving on though! Thanks for all the reviews, it means a lot :DDD Oh! One side note. The / 's...they are used in place of ITALICS. It bothers me a lot and it's unprofessional, but, you know, that's how it is right now. Just so you don't think I'm strange. Well...I am...but anyway! I can't figure out how to work the bloody italics. So I'm sorry, and I'll fix it as SOON as I can! Enjoy, loves.

JaQ- Why thank you! I'm glad you like him, because yes, he is sexy. *Grin* I adore you more than words can say, darlïng! (-- Hah!)

Alena- I'm glad you like it! It's hard to write characters from a different time, but it's good to know I'm doing alright!

Pinkjewel3- Again, thanks for reviewing, and I hope my future chapters keep you interested!

Kassi- Aw, thank you! I'm glad you enjoy it, especially the wonderfully innocent Aidan *grin* I'm even on your alert list! Makes my day. And thank you for the offer...I'll be sure to let you know!

Mars and Juju- Thank you both! I definitely hope I can continue to live up to your expectations!

And mucho, mucho thanks to my beta reader, Chava!!! You helped make this chapter oh so much better than I ever could.


"Aidan, you're mad."

"Just trust me, okay?"

"I've known you for two weeks. I can't trust you this much."

"Have I given you any reason not to?"

I paused. "No."

"Well there you have it. Now go."

I frowned, wondering how he had -- yet again -- won this argument. He always won. I sat up resentfully, distinctly muttering / "This is never going to work"/ under my breath.

"But it will, if you do it right. You think you're not a good girl? Prove it, darling."

That was it. He had done it. Now I had to. He always knew how to get just what he wanted, and it clearly was an advantage on his part. I turned to throw him a sarcastic smile, so he knew I wasn't approving of his manipulation but rather just had no other choice. But a noise made me snap my head forward so fast I felt a muscle pull in my neck. Rubbing the sore spot gingerly, I went to the bed nearest the door, listening to the sound's procession down the hall.

As usual, a lone guard was walking down the hall, passing out a small loaf of (stale, in my opinion) bread to each person. I watched as dirty hands reached through their bars to take it, murmuring their thanks, none of them wise enough to try anything on the guard. Did this make me dimmer than they? I shook away my thoughts.

The guard came to our door, holding the last two loaves. I gradually got up from the bed and moved towards the door, mind reeling with the task at hand. Time seemed to slow itself down as I neared the bars, my heart now racing, and reached out a hand through the poles of cold metal. I made sure (just as practiced) to keep my voice soft and breathy when I finally spoke.

"Why thank..." I paused briefly, "thank you...sir..."

And as my voice trailed off I fell, turning into a crumpled heap of peasant clothing on the floor of the cell -- but not before a slight hold-up as I instinctively tried to break my fall. Luckily, the guard didn't notice, but my wrist was now throbbing unbearably, and it took all my self-control not to whimper out loud. Aidan would kill me later; it wasn't in the plan to hurt myself during the act. But I was soon rewarded with the guard's voice, muttering furiously under his breath, and the sweet sound of the key turning in the lock. They seemed to have a soft spot where I was concerned -- from looks, age, or the fact that I was the only girl -- but it didn't matter. Just as Aidan (pretending to be asleep on his bed -- very unthreatening) had predicted, the guard wouldn't leave me there on the floor.

"Can't believe it...should really go get the doctor...just needs some food..."

I caught bits and pieces of the guard's mutterings as he laid me on my back, wrist still searing with pain. But I knew from listening that all was going according to plan; in the guard's haste, he had dropped the keys to the floor beside him. All I had to do now was wait for Aidan's cue...

There was a cough from the bed against the wall -- it was time to get out of here. I almost smiled to myself; I would prove that boy wrong. My eyes fluttered open, slowly revealing the anxious face of the weathered guard hovering over me.

"You all right there?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a slight movement. I nodded weakly.

"All right, well, you best sit up. I can't stay here all day."

I nodded again, raising my back off the ground, and almost immediately collapsing again. A sudden pain spiraled up my arm as I tried to put pressure on my wrist. I let out a small yell, the guard's face now displaying a startled expression. From that point, several things happened at once. I fell back to the stone, eyes watering as my wrist now throbbed uncontrollably. The guard made a movement towards me just as Aidan made for the keys on the floor. Mid-reach to me the guard noticed, and he spun to his right to grab Aidan. That was when I sat back up again, using only one arm this time, and kicked the guard's upper back with all my might, watching as he did a messy half somersault (I was quite proud of this maneuver -- but then again, he was old). Aidan stopped midway to the door to look at me strangely, but with one bad arm it was the best I could do. And it proved useful enough.

In one sleek movement, Aidan had pulled me off the floor by the arm and run out the door, almost shutting it as the guard reached the bars, but not making it all the way. We pushed heavily against it, trying desperately to snap it shut, but the guard pushed back, trying his best to break free. My feet began to skid across the floor as I leaned my back against it, so I quickly flipped myself around. The burning sensation in my wrist had reached a point where it was so great that I was only barely aware of it. I didn't think twice as I locked my elbows and pushed into the door with renewed vigor. The result: the door slammed shut, the guard stumbled back, and I fainted.


Smoke. That was the first thing I noticed as I came to my senses. I wanted to open my eyes, but I was afraid. I didn't remember what had happened; who knew where I was? But the prospects were bleak -- lie in the unknown, breathing in mysterious smoke, or just bite the bullet. Finally, I decided to take my chances, and my eyes fluttered timidly open.

Aidan. A wave of relief washed over me as I saw his familiar form to my right, huddled by a small, flickering fire. We were outside in the woods, judging from what little I could see, and by the sound of it, there was --

"A horse?"

Aidan jumped visibly, turning over to me with a look of relief similar to mine.

"When'd you wake up?"

"Just now," I said impatiently, not seeing where that was important. "But where did that horse come from? And how did I get here? And where, may I ask, is here? Oh, an --"

"All right, all right," Aidan said, cutting me off. The firelight danced across his face. "One thing at a time here, Lis. First of all, we're in Talar -- two towns away from the castle, and heading towards the lower portion of Arias Nehalem. Second of all, you got here because I brought you here. And thirdly, that horse is mine. It was still being kept in the stables I had left it in, which thankfully was close, because you were actually starting to feel heavy by that point."

I didn't know what to say. Aidan had turned away from me again, resuming his previous activity of prodding the fire with a stick. I propped myself on my elbows, tilting my head a little to the side and watching him carefully. Had he really carried me all the way to a barn? I didn't even know where the nearest barn was. I looked down, suddenly feeling worthless. All I had been (quite literally) was dead weight; if I had been him, I would've been more than slightly annoyed at dragging an unconscious girl around.

I moved to sit up, determined to go over and help him somehow -- anything to seem useful -- when I remembered my wrist. More to the point, I accidentally leaned on my wrist. The pain that had been dulled moments before suddenly flared up, causing me to take a sharp breath and quickly shift weight.

"What's wrong?"

Aidan's gaze was back on me, his green eyes flecked with gold as the fire shimmered in them. I quickly calmed down. He had done enough already; the last thing he needed was my causing more problems.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Clearly my acting only worked on castle folk and jail guards. The next moment, he was kneeling by me again.

"You're so stubborn," he said suddenly. My gaze snapped back up to his.

"Excuse me?"

"You can't just tell me you broke your wrist? Did you just want to leave it be, hoping it would magically heal?"

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I ignored the question. "It's not broken. I can move it, look."

I then proceeded to show him how I could tilt my wrist back and forth to some extent, while wincing in pain (the wincing bit wasn't part of the original plan). He shook his head.

"Fine, have it your way -- /sprained/ wrist. Now can I help?"

"You've done enough."

This apparently wasn't the answer he was expecting, seeing as he had stopped ripping off a piece of blanket (I didn't ask where that had come from) midway and was looking at me.

"You're unbelievable sometimes, you know that?"

I grinned. "So I've been told."


An hour later, I was sitting alone by the fire. Picking up the stick Aidan had left from before, I prodded the now dying flames, watching as sparks flared up on contact. I looked down stubbornly at my wrist; though I sincerely didn't want his help, I couldn't deny Aidan had done a good job. I had spent a good ten minutes watching as he bent over my arm, green eyes focusing intently on my wrist as his hands wound it up. He was surprisingly gentle, and by the time he was done, the pain had already begun to subside. He set my wrist down with a flourish, having heard no commentary from me the whole time, and looked up at me with his eyes gleaming wickedly. At that point, I grudgingly mumbled, "I guess this is better," and turned away from the smug grin on his face. Honestly. Men. Who needs them?

I heard a deep, contented sigh come from the figure sprawled out a few feet to my right. Aidan had fallen asleep a good twenty minutes ago, but I wasn't tired. I watched the firelight flicker across his face, which now looked boyish, and even angelic. But then, doesn't everyone look cute when they sleep?

I smiled to myself as I lay down on my blanket, pulling another deep red throw over my shivering body -- I didn't realize how cold it was in the fire's absence. Despite the fact that the weather was still warm, nights outside proved cold and ruthless. With a small sigh, I snuggled myself deeper under the blanket, prepared for my first real sleep in weeks.


Soft noises in the distance stirred me in my sleep. Pleasant, faded chirruping sounds. As I drifted out of my dreams they became louder, until I finally recognized it -- birds.

Loud, obnoxious birds.

I gave a muffled growl from under my blanket and made to turn over -- I couldn't. There was something there. A warm something, I realized, because I was sleeping right next to it. Opening my eyes, I saw this something should rather be described as a some/one/.

Now, maybe most girls would've stayed there. But then again, maybe most girls hadn't grown up princesses, where holding hands with a boy was practically a sign of holy matrimony. And I, as has been demonstrated, am also just clearly not like most girls.

With a sharp breath I bolted up and scuttled back a foot, breathing somewhat hard, strands of gold hair falling in my eyes. Nothing like early morning surprises to really wake you up. I began to wonder if he had realized I was there. I hadn't meant to sleep with him, obviously. I had started out over...over...

I did a double-take before emitting a small yelp. I scampered back in such a hurry that I landed on the previously sleeping form of Aidan, sprawling myself out over him backwards.

"Wh-what?"

I felt his breathing quicken underneath me as he came to, but still didn't speak.

"Lis, what the hell --"

"There," I squeaked, pointing an accusatory finger towards my blankets. Aidan's eyes followed my outstretched arm as he got up on his elbows.

"Who is that?"

I shook my head mutely, slowly lowering my finger at the mass under my blanket, which was rising and falling in steady rhythm. Aidan's gaze never left the figure as he carefully moved me off his chest, got to his feet and walked over to the heap, which was snoring lightly. He examined it and then glanced back at me, casually shrugging his shoulders.

"Wake it up!" I hissed softly, not wanting to actually do the waking myself. Aidan frowned at me, then turned back to the mass.

He tapped the figure with the instep of his boot. The figure stirred slightly, letting out a large grumble. To my amusement Aidan jumped visibly, and I quickly put a hand to my mouth as he shot me a murderous stare. He jabbed the sleeping form again, this time harder, and the person seemed to finally come to. In an instant, the top of the blanket was thrown down and the figure was sitting up.

"Well, good mo-morning," he said, stifling a yawn and pulling his arms back as he stretched. I was speechless- it couldn't be. "Everyone sleep well? Fancy a bit of breakfast? I have some bread, been known to make a mean --"

"Who are you?" I blurted out incredulously. I got to my feet and walked over to where Aidan stood in shock.

"Ah, milady, you're finally awake! To be honest, I was rather hoping to just take you last night, but it seemed a bit rude to wake you, and you did look so comfortable..."

"So instead you took my bed?"

"Yes, well, that was quite regrettable, but I needed somewhere to sleep also, and that young man had more than enough room. I thought I would just move you over, milady. You two are traveling together, after all, aren't you?" At this, Aidan raised an eyebrow at me. I had the grace to blush. "You'll forgive me, milady, won't you?"

"Wait, wait," Aidan said with an impatient movement of his hand. "'Milady?' What are you going on about? And more importantly, who are you?"

Aidan stood there in general shock while realization was slowly dawning on me, washing over me in sickening waves. Having thrown back the blanket, I saw the man's attire to be a bit classier than the average peasant, and his proper speech was a definite tip-off. He didn't look exactly how I remembered, but there was such a striking resemblance I wouldn't be surprised. My hands shook slightly, but I knew I had to ask. Better me than him.

"You're here to take me back, aren't you Wilthrope."

It was more of a statement than a question, and I stared at the man intently, waiting for a reply.

"Yes, yes, my dear. Though I must say, I'm a bit surprised you remembered. It /has/ been ages since I've seen you. You've grown up tremendously.

"You haven't seen me for a reason." I stated coldly.

Wilthrope smiled slightly. "Ah, yes. But must fortunately, you're father is a very forgiving person, is he not? You see, when you went missing, he sent out a great number of spies and footmen, preparing a small army of men-at- arms back home -- when he received the slightest indication of your whereabouts, they were to set off. I came back and offered my services in retribution for the mistakes in the past, and he agreed to send me out as well. He'll be pleased to know I not only found you, but will save the troubles of an entire army by bringing you back myself."

I didn't know what to say. Darcy Wilthrope had once been a castle attendant, close to my father. But when his incompetent counseling led to a near war with Graneth, a neighboring land, he was banished from the palace. Needless to say, I agreed with my father's decision wholeheartedly, and the thought of Wilthrope on his good side again made my stomach churn.

"Now," he continued, "I tied the horse up just over there, if you're almost ready to go. I daresay everyone will be more than pleased to see you. Gave them quite a scare, I must say."

"Lis," Aidan began, "what is he talking about?"

I cringed at my name. Not my name really; I had liked to tell myself that Aidan called me Lis instead of Lisanne, as a friendly nickname of sorts. But in all reality, I had stuck with the guard's story of my name being Lisa, telling him I liked to be called Lis (I truthfully didn't like the name Lisa). He knew nothing of my royal blood -- I didn't know how to tell him. Ignoring Aidan's questioning stare, I focused on the man.

"I'm not going back."

The man, who had already risen and begun to pack up, stopped and stared at me.

"Well, of course you are, milady. You can hardly stay here, can you? Not really any place for a --"

"How did you know?" I asked quickly. Something, anything, to keep him from finding out the truth. I just needed to hold off a little longer.

Wilthrope laughed. "Oh dear, do you really not know? That was quite an exit you made at the jail. Of course, we hadn't a clue you were being kept there until a report came out about two runaway criminals. When we realized your description matched the one of the girl's, why, all we had to do was follow every citing. I was sent here on the specific task of finding you and bringing you back with me. Well," he added, "many others as well. But I'm very grateful to be the one to bring you home at last."

Now Aidan had apparently had enough. He grabbed me firmly by the upper arm and turned me to face him. / "What's going on."/

This wasn't a question, either; it was a demand. There was a moment of silence as Aidan's commanding stare focused on me, waiting for a reply, before the wiry man made a small noise.

"Well! Honestly, that's no way to treat the Princess, now is it?"

My head was full of shattering glass. I could almost hear everything breaking down around me; feel the shards prick my skin as they fell. I chanced a glance at Aidan -- he was horrified. As quickly as he had grabbed me, he let me go, stepping back and looking at me as though he were disgusted. And he probably was.

"Princess?" His green eyes bore into mine. I looked down.

"Why, yes, my dear fellow." Wilthrope chuckled softly. "Had she really not told you? Princess Lisanne has been missing for over two weeks now...disappeared from the castle one evening, no one knew where she was. His Majesty has been in quite a state searching for you, milady, as I said...although I can't blame him for not searching the jails. Who would've thought! The Princess of Arias Nehalem in jail. But no matter, I think it's time to go."

Neither of us had moved during the small man's speech, and neither moved now. Wilthrope reached out for me, ready to take my hand, and I hastily pulled it away. I staggered back a few paces.

"Now, your ladyship, there's no need to be wary. No one will be angry with you; we've all been terribly worried. We know it's not your fault. Must've been some bold man to kidna --"

"I ran away!" My voice seemed to echo through my mind. "I ran away for a reason and I'm not going back."

There was a pause when the man stood in stunned silence, and I glared, breathing heavily.

"Go."

My head snapped up, turning to my right, unable to believe my ears.

"Go, /Princess/. Everyone is waiting for you to come /home/."

His voice was bitter, putting particularly harsh emphasis on the words "princess" and "home." Here in front of me stood a young man with tousled brown hair, his eyes looking away. Someone I had considered a friend. The only person I had talked to for over two weeks; and he was rejecting me. The man who I thought would be my partner in crime on some fanciful adventure had flat-out disowned me; but I honestly couldn't blame him.

For the first time in years, I wanted to cry. I extended my hand, reaching out gently for his arm.

"Aidan, I --"

He pulled away sharply. When he spoke, his gaze still refused to meet mine, and his voice was even. "It's been nice. Give the King and Queen my regards, would you?"

And he walked away. He picked up the blankets and began packing the horse. The thin little man, who had been watching this exchange with mingled shock and confusion, cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, if you'll kindly mount on the horse over there, milady, we can be off."

I remained motionless for a moment, waiting to get the feeling back in my legs. Something was nagging me in the back of my mind; didn't Wilthrope have the slightest idea who Aidan was? Did he not hear properly when others spoke of two runaway convicts? I wasn't going to say anything, despite my current state, though it still bewildered me. But maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, seeing as he never was the brightest man. Besides, his eyes were too fixed on his prize – me.

Finally, I turned my back to the fire and walked numbly over to the horse. I clambered on first, now turning back to where the brown-haired figure was still packing up, watching as his shape grew blurry. The man came over and checked the saddle as I watched Aidan fasten the last strap, and a solitary tear finally broke free. The hot tear clung to my skin as it fell, and moments later, another silent trickle glided down my face behind it. The man climbed on behind me, settling himself in the saddle, and paused.

"I thank you for all your help, sir."

Aidan mounted too, finally glancing up, most likely just as shocked but not showing it in the least. His eyes traveled to me and I looked away, not wanting to let him see my now tearstained face. I had told him I was brave. I had told him I never cried.

"My pleasure."