A/N:
Welcome to chapter 1 of my Anastasia AU! I've done a lot of fanart for this story on my tumblr, so if you guys are curious, I recommend checking it out so you can get a bit of a visual for the characters. (tumblr user: LovelySheree)
Hope you guys enjoy!
Prologue
It had been a joyous night in the castle. There was a lovely dinner filled with laughter, dancing, and music. Family sat at the table and spoke enthusiastically to one another. The room was warm, it was happy. The castle often had evenings such as this.
But a lot could change in just a few moments.
Now, the castle was filled with fire and smoke. Curtains were set ablaze and windows shattered under the heat. Somewhere in the distance shouts of soldiers and clashing metal rang through the air while black billows of smoke began seeping into a room where a mother and father stood to protect their daughter.
"He's here," the father spoke to the mother. The daughter watched nervously as her parents turned to her. They bent down and pulled her into their embrace.
"You going to go somewhere safe," her mother said, pulling away to look fiercely at her, "And you need to stay there until we come get you." The daughter nodded, tears forming in her eyes.
She felt her father's hand cup her face as he wiped a single tear from her cheek. "I know this is scary," he said calmly, his voice barely carrying through the chaos around them, "And it's okay to be scared, but we need you to stay strong. We'll be back to find you, okay?"
Her lip quivered while she sucked in a choppy breath. "I-I'm not s-scared," she hiccupped.
A crash alerted them, and they turned to find a young boy racing down the hall. He had dropped a sword, one far too large for him to use effectively, and he struggled to pick it back up as he made is way towards them.
"M-my dad…" the boy heaved, "he-he told me to… to come find you."
"Good," the father spoke quickly. "I need you take Saraiah and hide," he explained. He stood up and pressed a stone on the wall. The large painting beside them eerily creaked open, revealing a hidden staircase that led under the castle. "Go straight down this path and take the second left turn, then turn immediately right. There, you'll see a series of doors. Hide in any of those chambers and stay quiet."
The young boy looked overwhelmed, "Do we have time to write it down?"
"Saraiah has been there before," the mother explained. She turned to her daughter and smiled softly, "Remember where you hid when we play hide and seek?" The daughter blankly nodded before her mother pulled her in for a tight hug. "Go there. We'll see each other soon," she whispered.
The daughter clutched her mother tightly, even as she pulled away. She could hear her father urging them to leave and she felt the young boy's hand on her shoulder. She was pried from her mother's arms with tears falling sloppily down her face. "No!" she cried.
"We have to hide!" the young boy insisted, trying his best to hold her back. The daughter's heart sank as she grasped her reality, staring hopelessly up at her parents. "Come on, quickly!" the young boy urged her.
"Wait!" she shrugged him off, quickly reaching for her necklace on the nearby dresser. She held it tightly to her chest. "Okay," she whispered.
She followed the boy behind the painting. "We'll see you soon!" she heard her father call after her. She turned to see her parents standing there, smiling solemnly at her. Then, her world faded into darkness as the hidden door closed with a soft click.
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Twelve Years Later….
"You good for nothing leech! I provide a roof over your head, food for you to eat, and this is how you repay me? Can you do nothingright?" the woman had yet to meet Sara's eye. Instead, she kneeled on the floor and picked up the broken pieces of a vase.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," Sara said repeatedly. She bent down next to the woman and reached to help her clean up the shattered mess, but she was only able to secure a single shard before the woman wailed and snatched the piece out of her hand.
"I think you've done quite enough, girl. Get out of my sight—out of my house!" she placed the pieces she had picked up on the table above where she knelt, where the vase had once sat. Standing up, the woman turned and pointed a strict finger towards the door. "You've caused nothing but trouble since you've arrived and done little to help!"
Sara's heart sank and she could feel the beginnings of tears form in her eyes. "And where am I supposed to go?" She asked, trying her best to keep her voice even.
"Back to the orphanage for all I care, so long as you're not here," the woman said with a fire in her eyes.
Behind her, there was a timid little boy standing half-hidden by a doorframe. The boy's wide eyes met Sara's and she remembered how she'd gotten into this mess in the first place. He had knocked the vase down himself while playing with his toys. Sara had been looking away for a few moments to add more wood to the stove and when she heard a crash, she whipped around to see the boy looking terrified at the mess before him. It hadn't even been a second when they both heard the woman's shrill voice as she made her way from another room. Sara ushered the boy away from the vase, telling him to hide in his room. She had seen this woman take out her temper on the boy before, and she'd be damned if she let her do it again over a silly vase.
Standing, Sara steadied herself and squared her shoulders. "Fine," she said, "I'll go get my things." She walked a few steps down the hallway to a small room where there was a simple bed, a nightstand, and small chest. Opening the chest, she could feel the woman watch her as she grabbed her pack and began shoving what few belongings she had into it.
Throwing the pack over her shoulder, she stalked past the woman and right out the front door.
"Good riddance," she heard the woman call after her, "Tell them to send a capable girl or I want my money back!" And then the door slammed behind her.
There was a deafening silence for a few moments. It was the middle of autumn and the chilly evening breeze made her shiver as dead leaves rustled overhead. "Back to the orphanage?" she wondered aloud, a sense of dread filling her stomach upon the thought. The orphanage wouldn't take her back, she was already eighteen years old. Besides, she didn't want to go back there, people were mean and made fun of her. She absently reached for her ears, gingerly brushing the tip of them with her fingers.
But where to go instead?
She felt the cold touch of metal on her chest and she reached for the locket that hung there. For the short time Sara lived here, she had been carefully hidden this from the greedy woman, knowing she would've taken it for herself had she known Sara had it. It was gold and silver and eagerly reflected the light of the moon.
She examined the locket and the carefully crafted insignia on the front. The symbol of Katolis. Flipping it over, there was a well-worn engraving of the castle. Over the years, she had run her fingers over it so many times that it was hardly recognizable anymore. She popped the locket open, reading the inscription for what felt like the millionth time. "Never forget that you belong," she read, "Love, Mum and Dad."
"Is that where home is?" she asked herself in a whisper, "Katolis?" She began to walk forward, and the leaves crunched under her feet.
The orphanage would certainly turn her away. Even if her family wasn't there, perhaps she could make a life for herself in the capitol. Besides, she'd love the chance to see the royal family. She had heard so many heroic stories of how they had helped end the war between Xadia and the human kingdoms all those years ago.
Securing the locket around her neck once more, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and headed towards the heart of Katolis. Headed, perhaps, to her home.
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Rayla stirred awake, blinking away the fog in her eyes. She sat up as quietly as she could, careful not to wake the sleeping figure beside her. Callum's back was to her, his hair creased in awkward places from being against a pillow, and she could see his chest rise and fall in even breaths. These days, it wasn't often they found sleep in the night, so a small part of her was jealous as she watched him peacefully lay there, but she knew there were nights when the roles were reversed. She sighed, letting her head fall silently against the bedframe behind her. There always had to be one of them up, worrying about things they can't change. Worrying about her.
Their daughter.
Was she out there? Rayla had lost count of the number of times she'd ask herself that question. A bitter part of his answered no, of course not.Yet she was always on her mind, and with every thought of her, a single thread of hope tugged dangerously at Rayla's heart. Both she and Callum listened to that hope for years, desperately searching and wishing for their daughter's safe return.
But in twelve years, she had yet to come home.
She slipped out of bed, or, she had tried to before she felt a hand on her wrist. She turned to see Callum's sleepy face twisted in concern. "Whe'er you goin'?" he mumbled sleepily.
Rayla smiled at the cute expression on his face, reaching over to tuck one of the many strands of messy hair behind his ear. Over the years, the rich brown had begun to fade and every once in a while, she would spot a gray strand. "I couldn't sleep is all," she whispered.
He didn't let go of her hand, keeping her there as he looked intently at her. She could practically see the gears turning in his head. "I'll get up with you," he said finally, clearing his throat.
Rayla frowned at him, "Callum, no, you were sleeping just a few seconds ago."
He sat up, letting go of her hand and rubbing his face. "Mhm, yes I was," he said. He looked at her through half-lidded eyes, and she wasn't sure if he was attempting a sly expression or if he was still too tired to properly open them. He sagely raised a single finger into the air, "But there's this thing called 'waking up' and it's really neat."
She gave him a flat look. So, it was his attempt at a sly expression. "Callum, I really think you should rest, we have an important meeting with Queen Zubeia in the morning."
He raised his brow at her and scoffed. "Hi kettle, this is pot, you're black," he said mockingly, swinging his legs out from under the covers and standing up to stretch. He grabbed a shirt from the floor where he had haphazardly tossed it last night and slipped it over his head. However, he must've been still a little out of it because he had somehow thrown the shirt on backwards with his head through one of the sleeves and his arms bent awkwardly, sticking out from the collar.
She scrunched her nose at him playfully, walking around the bed to help him straighten out the tangled mess he had gotten himself into. "So, you're telling me," she began, guiding his arms back through the collar and into the sleeves, "you can't even put your shirt on straight, but you have a clear enough mind to be sassy?"
He mumbled a barely audible "thank you" from inside the shirt as his head found the neckline and he pulled it over himself, successfullythis time. "We both know it doesn't take a clear mind for me to be sassy," he said as he leaned forward to kiss her nose. "I'll be fine. I'll have Ibis make me some of his tea before the meeting," he replied. "Besides, I could use a walk right now."
"Right now? In the middle of the night?" she asked him as she stepped away to get into her own change of clothes.
He hummed in response, cursing under his breath as he shoved his foot into the wrong boot. "Care to join?" he asked, looking up at her.
While buttoning up her blouse she shook her head, exasperated, but amused, nonetheless. "Sure," she said sarcastically, "Wonderfulidea, hun. Can't believe I hadn't thought of it myself."
He finished putting on his second boot and stood up, walking towards their balcony that overlooked Xadian ground. They were staying in a room at the Storm Spire for a few nights. As she finished getting dressed, Rayla watched as he carefully examined the surrounding cliffside before drawing a rune and releasing the spell. She heard the tumbling of rocks as she curiously made her way towards him.
He smiled broadly. "I have to admit," he said while gesturing to the cliffside, "The earth arcanum has a lot of practical perks."
She examined the neat path he had temporarily carved out of the mountain. It stretched down the base of the spire before disappearing into the orange treetops below. He hopped on to the path and extended his hand towards her. "Being married to a mage has its perks too," she said, taking his hand and joining him.
They walked in the quiet of the night towards the base of the spire, neither quite willing to break the silence. It was a peaceful moment, and while the war may be over, peace was still a rare and valued commodity.
They continued, hand-in-hand, without speaking even as they reached the base of the spire. The season had begun to color the trees in wonderful shades of red, orange, and yellows. Autumn was Rayla's favorite time of year, especially in Xadia, and it was enough to simply walk in silence with him and enjoy the scenery.
It wasn't until the sun began to barely peek out from behind the horizon that Callum finally spoke. He took in a long breath before slowly letting it out through his nose. He squeezed her hand. "She'd be eighteen right now," he said aloud.
There was no need for Callum to clarify who he was referring to. "Yeah," Rayla responded emptily, "It's been twelve years now."
Callum nodded, and a silence fell between them once more. They could hear the birds beginning their morning song overhead, and light was starting to bleed through the canopy above them. "Sometimes I wonder," Callum spoke softly, "What she'd be like."
Rayla looked at him with half of a smile, her heart aching at the thought. "I do too," she replied, her voice tight and thick with emotion. "She'd have been stubborn, that's for sure."
Callum laughed, "Yeah, she most certainly would've." Rayla felt his thumb brush over the back of her hand.
"Remember when she and Ez snuck into the bakery and covered the entire kitchen with flower?" she remembered, laughing fondly. There was always a mixture of grief and joy when she thought back on those memories. Memories of her.
Callum grinned, "Ez still claims it was an accident, and what the king says goes, right?"
Rayla hummed humorously, closing her eyes and imagining her face. She felt her chest tighten as she took in a shaky breath. "She had the softest hair," she recalled, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. When she opened them, she found he was fighting back tears as well.
"Her ears were the cutest," he said with a lopsided smile. "They just barely came to a point at the end," he brought his hand up to touch his own ears, "And when she was a baby, they were so tiny." Their slow stroll had come to a stop, and Rayla turned to look at him. He was still looking away from her, focusing on something far in the distance. "I miss her so much it hurts sometimes," he confessed.
At one point in their lives, there was anger in those words. Anger for whoever took her away from them. Anger towards themselves for being unable to stop it from happening. Anger for not being able to find her again. And there was still anger now, but it no longer held the heat it once did. It was replaced by cold grief, longing, and bitter acceptance.
She reached for his face and gently pulled him to her, her fingers brushing his cheeks. "I know," she whispered, feeling a few tears spill over. His eyes met hers wearily. It was a shared loss between them, something they could feel personally and in unison all at once. It pained her to think of their daughter, and it pained her knowing Callum felt the same way. They both wanted desperately to fix the other person, and yet they both knew there was no solving this.
He moved forward, resting his forehead on hers. It was all so much, and it always was. The crushing reality that they would never see their daughter again remained almost too heavy to hold. But it was something they helped each other hold.
She leaned up to kiss him softly, resting in his presence, grateful to have him. She felt his shoulders relax as he breathed out through his nose. Her hands slide to play with the curly hair behind his ears and at the nape of his neck. He moved to deepen the kiss, running his tongue across her bottom lip before gently tugging at it, but she pulled away.
"We should get back," she whispered and quickly kissed him again, "Or else we'll be late for the meeting."
He shook his head, capturing her lips once more. "We'll fly back," he said in-between.
She laughed lightly, feeling his hands fall to her hips, "Well in that case," she grinned, pulling him closer.
They were late to the meeting.
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Sara had always loved the fall. The cool breeze and orange leaves made the world feel bearable. But right now, it was cold and dark outside, and she could feel her boots beginning to get wet. She wondered how long of a journey it would be until she'd reach the capitol of Katolis.
She knew it was a long way away. The home the orphanage sent her to was on the outskirt of the kingdom while the capitol was tucked behind the mountain range. A mountain range she was currently on the wrong side of. Which of course meant she had to walk around it or go over it. She could already feel blisters building on the bottom of her feet.
This was going to be a long walk.
She hadn't exactly thought this through entirely. But honestly, what other option was there? The orphanage would turn her away. She sighed, hugging her arms in a futile attempt to stay warm. She should rest and start a fire, she thought, no use in freezing to death.
She looked around for a relatively covered area. Just a few yards ahead, there was a large tree that loomed over a small patch of dry dirt. She quickly made her way to the tree and huddled underneath. She released a breath and watched it puff away into night sky. It was definitely cold tonight. Glancing at her muddy and wet shoes, she knew it would be near impossible to start a fire. The ground was sloshy from recent rainfall and finding dry kindling would be a miracle.
She let her head fall back against the trunk of the tree in frustration. If she didn't get kindling, it would be a needlessly long night of shivering in the cold. She stood up, feeling her legs wobble under the effort. She felt exhausted. She examined the area around her in search of dry wood. It took her some time, but she was able to scrounge up a few dry twigs and some larger fallen branches. Reaching for her pack, she pulled out a small dagger. It was something the orphanage had given her when she first left. She had to walk to her "new home" on her own, and it was a two-day journey. This was yet another item Sara decided to hide from that wretched woman.
She whittled up a small pile of shavings before grabbing a rock and striking it against her dagger. Sparks flew into the air. She carefully aimed it at the kindling pile and prayed a spark would catch. After a few many attempts, she had successfully landed a hot enough spark to ignite the pile of shavings. She quickly bent down and gently coaxed the spark into a flame, letting loose a soft cheer as the flame caught the surrounding twigs and sticks.
She leaned back to admire her work, already hearing the crackle and pop of the wood. As she stretched out her numb fingers towards the heat of the fire, she felt a strange sense of de ja vu, a distant memory. Faintly, she could hear the sound of laughter and a single lute playing. She tightly shut her eyes, trying to chase the moment down, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had surfaced.
A memory from the life she once lived, she assumed. One she no longer knew or remembered. Although she doesn't remember the events herself, she was told that someone had found her washed up on the shore of a river. Not knowing what else to do, they brought her to the orphanage. When she finally woke up, she had no memory of who she was or where she came from, just a vague idea of her name and a locket.
She frowned, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin there. No one knew who she was, and one had come looking for her. If she didhave family in the capitol, would they even want her back?
She shook her head. Now was not the time to get distracted by those thoughts. She should rest. She'd need all her strength if she wanted to make it to the next town by tomorrow. Her eyelids felt heavy as she laid down next to the fire. She watched the flames dance in the fire while she slowly slipped into unconsciousness.
She woke to the sound of hooves. Her eyes snapped open and looked around. It was still dark, and her fire had been reduced to hot coals. She stood up, panicking as the noise came closer and closer. She heard a voice yell something in the distance and she took that as her cue to hide. She grabbed her bag and ran behind a tree, clutching things close to her chest as she tried to steady her shaky breath.
"Over here!" she heard a low voice yell, followed by a whine of horse and stomping hooves. Suddenly, the horses were behind her. She could hear their snorts and chatter. "There's a fire, it's still warm."
Sara fought back a groan. Of course, she thought, why didn't I put out the fire? She mentally kicked herself, praying against all odds that they, whoever they were, wouldn't find her.
"Someone was sleeping here," a new voice says. "And recently too, look. These tracks are fresh," it says. "Looks like they stood up and ran towards…" Sara could only imagine this person was looking directly at the tree she was hiding behind, "That direction."
Oh no, she thought, her stomach dropping.
Footsteps approached her, and she knew she'd been caught. She looked around for an easy escape, but the only option was to run further into the woods. The ground was wet and covered in leaves, easy for anyone to track. She'd stand no chance.
But she ran anyway.
"What the—" she heard from behind her as she took off. Her heart was beating so loudly that she could barely their cries and footsteps following after her. She weaved through the trees as quickly as she was able to until her lungs burned in her chest. She slid to a stop and ducked behind another tree.
It was quiet. No footsteps. No shouts. Just her pounding heart and gasping breath.
For a slip moment, she wondered if she was safe. But as soon as that thought crossed her mind, she heard a crunch of leaves and felt a hand grasp her shoulder.
"Gotcha!" the voice said, now close to her ear. She could tell it was a man.
Sara jumped out of her skin, trying to break free from their hold. "L-let go of me!" she yelled.
"Whoa—careful! I'm just trying to—"
Sara squirmed free, jumping away from the figure and beginning to run. She didn't get far before she felt two large arms wrap around her and pull her to the ground. "Hey! Let go of me!" she screamed, resisting his hold as much as she could.
"I'm—I'm just trying to help," he grunted, grabbing her arms and pinning them above her head. "S-stop trying to run away!" She felt his knees on either side of her as he struggled to keep her still.
"I said, get off me!" She yelled, scrounging up her remaining strength and kicking the stranger's chest as hard as she possibly could. She heard a pained grunt, and he was sent flying backwards, cursing as he landed ungracefully a few feet away.
"Shit, that hurt!" he groaned, continuing to lay on the ground. She scrambled backwards and watched warily as he tried to sit up. With it being the dead of night, she could hearthe wince in his voice more than she could see it on his face. "My dad always said to never underestimate a girl but—ah! I think you broke my ribs!" he clutched his stomach as his breathing came in short pained gasps.
For a moment, she felt a little guilty. "I'm sorry I didn't mean—wait, why am I apologizing? You snuck up on me and grabbed me! Those broken ribs of yours, if they are actually broken, should be a lesson to you!" she said with a tilt of her head.
"Okay, well, lesson learned—whoa, hold up. What do you mean, 'if they are actually broken?' Can you not tell I'm in pain?" he asks incredulously.
She scoffed, crossing her arms and scooting further away from him, finding her back against the trunk of a tree. "I didn't kick you thathard."
He looked at her with a flat expression. "And I didn't grab you that hard either," he said plainly. He sat up further and tried to stand up. "I—ouch—I was only trying to see if you were okay."
"Well yes, I'm perfectly fine thank you very much. Now if you'd please leave me alone, I would greatly appreciate that." She stood up herself, crossing her arms and looking around her for an escape route.
"Alone? Out here? Listen I don't care how capable you are, it's the middle of the night, it's cold, and there's no civilization for miles. Not to mention there is currently a gang of bandits in these woods which is, by the way, why I'm even out here—You know what? I don't even know why I'm explaining myself to you. You're clearly lost and delusional." He clutched his stomach with one hand and stepped closer to her, one arm stretched out.
Her heart raced, with anger or fear she didn't know. Maybe both. "Delusional? I may be a little bit lost but I'm not delusional—don't come any closer!" He had gotten himself within a few feet of her once more and she fumbled quickly for the dagger that was sheathed at her hip.
He froze. From this distance, she could make out his face. His eyes were a sharp blue and his hair, despite being a bit tousled from their skirmish, was neatly cut and styled. He wore what seemed to be light-weight armor which probably the reason she was able to kick him off of her. There was a familiar sigil on his breastplate, that caught her eye. Katolis, she recognized.
When he sighed, her eyes bolted back up to his face and she clutched the handle of her dagger. "Okay, let's restart. I'm Jaron, a member of the crown guard of Katolis and I reallyjust want to make sure you're safe."
She looked up at him and loosened the grip on his dagger. Perhaps he was trustworthy. Besides, she was on her way to Katolis. "Of Katolis?" she asked skeptically.
His eyes lit up hopefully, "Yes, the Kingdom we're currently in." She saw him glance down at her hand that still laid on her hip where the dagger was. "Um, were you planning on stabbing me? Seriously? Haven't you done enough damage already!?"
Again, that guilt swam around in her stomach for a moment. He really didn't seem like a bad guy. "I, uh, I was planning on defending myself. It's up to you if you want to get stabbed," she said guardedly.
"Right, right, I won't get any closer," he said impatiently. "Please just come back to the camp with me, alright? It's just myself and two other guards. Let us at least take you to the nearest town."
She watched him closely and looked him over once more, letting her eyes fall on the symbol on his breastplate again. "You say you're a member of the crown guard? Does that mean you'll be returning to the castle?"
He nodded, "Of course, but… why?" this time, he looked at her skeptically.
She let go of the dagger at her side. "Would you be willing to take me there?" she asked.
He hesitated for a moment before repeating himself, "Of course, but… why?"
"I think my family may be there," she answered vaguely. But honestly, that was the entire truth. The only reason she wanted to get to the capitol was because her family might be there.
"You think?" he asked.
She sighed, reaching up to the necklace she wore and bringing it over her head. She held it delicately in her hand and ran a thumb over the worn golden symbol of Katolis. "I don't know anything about my past, or anything about my home or my family. But I do have this." She opened the locket and read the engraving aloud, "Never forget that you belong. And then it's signed Mum and Dad."
Jaron looked curiously at the necklace. "May I see it?" he asked, tentatively holding out a hand.
She met his eyes for a long moment, wondering if she should trust him. Her head said no, but something deeper, something larger, said yes.She glanced between him and her necklace before she gingerly held it out to him.
He took it carefully and examined it. "It's beautiful," he said absentmindedly.
"It's the only piece of home I have," she said sadly.
He looked up at her, surprised. He probably pitied her, she assumed. "Here, then you should keep it safe," he said. He stepped closer to her and, after looking at her for permission, gently brought the locket over her head and placed it back on her neck. "I'll take you to Katolis—the capitol, I mean. Technically we're already in Katolis."
"You will?" she asked while he stepped back.
"Yeah, it's no problem. And if you'd like, I can even help you look for them. I personally know King Ezran and Prince Callum, I'm sure they'll be able to help you find your family," he said cheerily.
She scoffed, "Well that might be a bit overboard. I don't think I need to involve the King or the Prince in my family business."
Jaron shrugged, "It's up to you, but believe me, they'd be happy to help. They uh, the Prince and his wife, they tragically lost their daughter years ago and they would give anything to have her back. I'm sure they'd do anything to help you find your family, too."
Sara blinked, "Oh, that's sad," she said heavily.
There was more to the story, she could tell by the restrained look in his eyes, as if he were trying to cover-up his own memory. "It was a long time ago… I was too young to remember it, really. My dad says that they all took it incredibly hard, though. That they've not been the same since," he explained before taking a sharp inhale and groaning. "Dammit, did you really have to kick me so hard?"
Sara crossed her arms indignantly, "I really don't think we should start that argument again."
He scoffed, "Oh believe me, I know. But I'm seriously going to have to take it easy for the next few days." He took a few steps back towards where he had come from. When he noticed she wasn't following he turned back around towards her and nodded his head towards the edge of the forest. "Aren't you coming? Let's get you home, shall we?" He said as he offered her his hand. "Who knows, maybe you're the lost princess, huh?" he said jokingly.
She laughed at that, walking next to him but ignoring his outstretched hand. "Oh please. If our interaction has proven anything, it's that I'm far from being princess material."
He glanced at her and gave her a wry smile, "I don't know. You do hold yourself with a certain… dignity."
She frowned at him, "That doesn't exactly feel like a compliment."
He continued to grin, "That's because it's not—ow!" he shouted when she jabbed him in the side. "Once again, haven't you hurt me enough already?" he asked her, edging away from her.
"You were forgetting the lesson I taught you," she gestured to his ribs, "I was just reminding you."
Jaron looked at her before shook his head in bewilderment. "Right. I don't think I'll be forgetting it any time soon," he winced. "Now come on, let's get back to the horses and then back to camp. We're going to need plenty of rest if we're traveling back to the capitol."
Sara smiled and hope filled her chest. This was it. This was where her journey truly started; where she would begin to retrace the steps of time and unravel the mystery of her past. She was finallygoing home.
I hope you enjoyed your read. I'd love to hear your thoughts below! :)
Once again, if you're curious about what Sara looks like or Jaron, etc. feel free to check out my tumblr!(tumblr user: LovelySheree)
-LovelySheree
