CHAPTER THE FIFTH

Night Guard.

On the first day of travel back to the capital region of Avonlea, Belle and Philippe crossed three regions, and she'd restocked on food and supplies. By nightfall, they arrived at Lake Nelskas, which was only four days' travel from Avonlea. They were making good time, Belle thought as she set up camp for the night. And it was lucky, too, that they'd had such clement weather for it. Temperatures were getting ever colder, and she knew that it wouldn't be long, now, before a difficult winter. In Avonlea, the snow always arrived by December.

Belle sat by the fire and warmed her hands. There were wolves, they said, in the Forest of Nelskas. The wolves stole farmers' sheep in the dead of night and sometimes killed the sheep purely for the sport of it. Belle had never stopped to think much about the wolves before. But then, she'd never been alone by the waters of Lake Nelskas before, either.

She looked over the water and knew that by day, the water would be the purest emerald green. Some said the water was the exact color of the eyes of a great Lady who'd been jilted by her lover, many years ago. Belle wasn't sure how she felt about that tale. It seemed too tragic to be true.

A twig snapped in the darkness, and Belle's head whipped up. Her eyes darted around in a face illuminated by the amber glow of the softly crackling flames.

"Hello?" she said, wincing when her voice cracked. "Who's there?" She paused, then drew her short sword from its sheath, which was always at her side. "Show yourself."

There was a silence for a moment, and then a voice. "I mean you no harm."

She squinted, standing, with a lantern in one hand and her blade in the other. "Come closer, and throw down your weapon."

"I don't have a weapon."

"Come forward," she repeated.

A beat passed, and then she heard footsteps drawing near, even and sure. She raised her lantern, and soon the man's face came into view. She blinked.

"Jefferson? Is that you?"

He nodded. He looked paler than before, and his red hair was askew. Dirt and scratches marred his face.

Belle lowered her sword and her lantern, and approached him. "Are you alright? How did you get here?"

"I was sent to find you, Belle," he said, tightly, his mouth pulled into a frown. His hands fiddled with the brim of his hat, which he held clenched in his hands. "Sir Maurice is looking for you."

"Looking for me?" she asked, her eyebrows pinching together. "Why would Father be looking for me? Oh, sit down, please," she added apologetically. "Well?" she said, looking at him intently once he'd sat down on a large boulder by the flames.

He glanced up at her before turning his eyes back to the fire. "I told him I wasn't sure if I'd find you."

"What? That's silly, you'd always be able to find me," Belle said, pointing at his hat.

He nodded, smiling ruefully. "I know you know that. But you're one of only five people in all the realms that do," he said. "Your father had no idea."

"So you lied, then," she said, softly. She looked at him searchingly.

"I had to. I don't know what you're doing in Nelskas, by the way. You were supposed to be on the other side of the Borderlands by now, you said you'd keep traveling," he said, accusingly. "Why are you going back?" he asked. His hands twisted, and he put his hat on, before fidgeting with buttons on his sleeve.

"I decided running away from my fate was wrong," she said, watching him nervously.

"That sounds like you," he admitted with a chuckle. Then the frown came back. "Still. It's not safe, Belle."

"What do you mean?" said Belle. Her heart began to pound. "Not safe, why?"

"I think you know," he said, jerking his head towards her sword. "You wouldn't have had that drawn so quickly if you weren't worried about it too." He paused. "Avonlea and the surrounding provinces, all the way up to the Frontlands - they're at war, Belle."

She stared at him and swallowed. "They're recruiting men from Wayfrith."

He looked at her sharply. "You saw the decree, then?"

"Father signed it," she said, dejectedly.

"Oh, yes he did," said Jefferson darkly. He ran a thumb along his jaw and breathed out sharply, sending a little white cloud into the air.

"Who are we fighting?" Belle asked.

"Ogres."

"Ogres?" Belle said, standing. "I thought they surrendered two years ago. They agreed to a truce, Father said."

"Yes," Jefferson said, meeting her eyes, "But for some reason, something recently made the Ogres change their mind. What's more, they're smarter than they were before."

Belle looked at him, holding her breath. "What does that mean?" she said.

"It means they've learned how to strategize. They threw a surprise attack on Avonlea Village five weeks ago, and your father's been fighting them off ever since. His troops have been almost entirely depleted. At this point, the best he's been able to do is hold them off. Nearly every town on the outskirts of Avonlea has been evacuated. In the last two week's he's had to ask the Duke and several others for help. So far, Lord LeGume has refused to lend any aid to Avonlea."

Belle stared at the hatter in shock. "Lord LeGume isn't helping?"

He looked at her slowly. "My understanding is he felt cheated out of a powerful alliance between you and his son."

"Oh." Belle looked away and shut her eyes. "Do you think my father knew about the Ogres before I left?"

"Do you want the truth?" said the hatter.

"Guess."

"Yes, I think he did," said Jefferson, before looking away from her and putting his hands out to warm them before the flames.

"So that's why he wanted me to marry Gaston," Belle whispered, sitting back down. "How could I have been so selfish?"

Jefferson shook his head. "You couldn't have known. All you knew was that your father was forcing you into a marriage of convenience. Besides, Lord LeGume could have sent his son to find a different princess to marry, if he'd wanted to."

"I'm not a princess," said Belle, wanting to laugh despite being on the verge of tears.

"No? Pity," said Jefferson. "I always thought you were one."

"That's kind, Jefferson."

"Is it?" said the hatter, piercing her with his mismatched eyes. "You've always been strange."

"How can you say that? We only met a little over a month ago."

"Yes, and I only needed a day to get to know you," said Jefferson with a crooked smile. "I knew exactly what you were like, the moment I saw you."

She looked at him curiously, and he raised an eyebrow, pointing vaguely upwards.

"Oh. Hat magic," said Belle, sighing. There was a moment's silence, and then she spoke again. "People have died because of me."

Jefferson barked out a laugh.

"Why are you laughing? It's not funny."

"It is. It's hilarious that you think you have any control in this situation." He looked at Belle. "Fate is a fickle thing, it does what it wants to do. Even if you'd have married that idiot Gaston, it wouldn't have stopped the war."

"You've met Gaston?"

He sighed. "It's hard to not run into him, in Avonlea." He paused. "It would take something a lot bigger than you turning him down to change history. The Ogres are back. I don't see a way out of it."

Belle shut her eyes again.

"If you knew what's good for you, you'd stay away from the castle," warned Jefferson.

"You know I can't do that," she said, frowning.

"Then leave the cart. Take your horse. The cart will weigh you down, it's too much of a risk."

Belle looked at him hopefully. "Could we travel by hat?"

Jefferson narrowed his eyes. "That depends on if you listen to me first."

She waited.

"You should learn this lesson now before you do something you'll regret. All magic comes with a price. You hear me? All magic comes with a price." He paused. "Magic should never be your first option or even your second option. The best thing for you to do is avoid it. You'll stay out of trouble that way."

"And what if I don't want to stay out of trouble?" said Belle, raising her chin defiantly.

Jefferson's eyes glittered. "Well, now. That's another story." He raised an eyebrow. "Alright. I'll take you to Avonlea. In exchange, if you ever have the opportunity in the future, you'll help me find my daughter. Or at least, find a way to protect her."

Belle looked at him reproachfully. "That's not something you'd ever have to ask me for. Ever since you told me about G-"

"Don't say her name," he said.

She swallowed. "Ever since you told me about your daughter, I promised to myself that I'd find a way to help you one day."

Jefferson stared at her silently, then slapped his knees, making Belle jump in surprise.

"That's settled then," he said. "We'll go in the morning."

Belle wanted to protest, wanted to ask him to take her there now, but as it was, she'd been incredibly lucky that he'd found her, and even luckier that he was at all willing to share his hat with her. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and better to be eternally grateful.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, tentatively.

He cheerfully replied that he had not. The two of them worked together to make a meal in silence. When they were done, they sat side by side and looked up at the sky, which was starlit.

"It looks so peaceful," Belle said.

"Not for long."

She glared at him. "Thank you for that."

"Pleasure."

She sighed and looked back at the sky. "Well. I suppose we should sleep. You rest, I'll keep watch."

In the end, Belle didn't wake him to switch places. She stayed up all night, looking at the stars.

A/N:

I don't really know how to write Jefferson, but this is my take on him. A bit darker than some might expect, because of his past. Definitely sarcastic and cynical.

Anyway, let me know if I should write him a bit differently!

Happy reading!

- Ismann