Late again. I know. But it's still before Christmas.

Last chapter of this story before we move onto the next one.

The next morning, Varian was able to read Ophelia another chapter of the book while they were still laying in his bed. But sadly, they needed to get up so she had enough time to get ready to return to the castle.

Varian continued to read aloud to her as she and Quirin made breakfast. He wanted to help, but all Ophelia wanted him to do to help out was to keep reading.

She wanted to hear the end where Mimi helped Flynn Rider escaped the General's prison, steal back the gold, and return it to her village who was in desperate need of it. She had heard and read it a hundred times, but Ophelia never got tired of it, and she wanted to hear it again before she left.

Mimi was the reason that particular Flynn Rider book was her favorite. Mimi was a fabulous singer and performer; talented but generous and kind-hearted. She played with the village children, told them stories, and whatever money she made from her shows, she always gave a good portion to charity. She was a person Ophelia aspired to be like.

But her favorite part was at the end of the story, when Flynn Rider and Mimi returned the stolen gold to her needy village and she is reunited with her family after being on the road performing for several years. She only did it to try and earn her family some money, and to hopefully gain some intel on the greedy General that took her village's livelihood. Her prayers were, of course, answered when she met Flynn Rider and he helped her steal it back.

The scene when Mimi sees her parents and younger siblings again always made her emotional. It used to make her cry the first few times she read it. Ophelia was so happy for Mimi, finally being able to go home and to see her family there, waiting for her with open arms. Over the years, she often had dreams of that scene, only she was Mimi and Varian was Flynn Rider. They were handing out gold to the poor people of Old Corona and they were cheering their names with passionate praise. And there, waiting for her with open arms were her parents.

Imagining that as she re-read that scene was what made her emotionally jazzed.

By the time the small family were all sitting down to eat, Varian had finally reached the scene. Ophelia held on his every word as if it was her first time hearing it. Like every time, it made her happy, sad, and a little anxious in her belly.

A beautiful ending to a beautiful story. And a beautiful end to an amazing home visit.

After breakfast, Ophelia packed all of her things onto Vanilla's saddle bag and got her ready for the journey. She was needed back in the palace kitchen by noon so she had to get going.

As she secured another strap, Ophelia felt a nudge on her leg. She looked down and saw Truffles staring up at her with big, pleading eyes.

"No, Truffles," the kitchen maid sighed. "I'm sorry, but you can't come with me," she said, squatting down to pat her head. "First, I need to ask for permission if I can have a pet at the castle."

"I'm sure if you asked Rapunzel, she'd say yes. And who could argue with the princess's seal of approval?" Varian said as he walked over. Ruddiger was draped happily over his shoulders.

"Exactly. So after I get permission, then you can come with me. Okay?" Reluctantly, Truffles snorted in understanding. Ophelia scratched her behind her ear affectionately then stood up. "But until then-" she said before launching herself into Varian's arms. Ruddiger jumped down to give them some space. "You'll take care of her for me, right?" she asked quietly into his shoulder.

Varian immediately hugged her back. "Of course," he promised.

Ophelia pulled away, just enough to look at him but kept her hands on his shoulders. "You know all the things she can and can't eat?" she asked.

"You wrote me a list," he reminded her. "I'll make sure she doesn't get poisoned…or barbequed."

His dark joke was responded to with his girlfriend shoving him. "Not funny," she huffed. Varian chuckled. When he was done, Ophelia dropped her pout and reached a hand up to cupped his cheek. "I'm gonna miss you so much," she said tenderly.

Varian leaned into her hand and sighed. "I miss you already," he said before turning his head to kiss her palm.

Ruggider decided at that moment that he wanted some attention before his favorite girl left and jumped up onto Ophelia's shoulders. Ophelia giggled as the fuzzy critter started nuzzling the back of her neck.

Quirin came outside and approached the couple and their animals.

"You got everything, dear?" he asked his adopted niece.

"I think so," she replied. Ruddiger jumped down from her.

"Good," Quirin nodded with a smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Work hard, and we hope to see you again soon."

Ophelia smiled back before giving the older man a hug. "Love you, Uncle Quirin."

"Love you too, sweetheart," he replied.

After they let go, Ophelia gave her boyfriend one last hug before mounting Vanilla. The young kitchen maid looked down to Varian beside her. She reached her hand down to him and he took it. The young alchemist kissed the smooth skin above her knuckles. Vanilla started to trot forward, he kept ahold of her fingers until he couldn't anymore.

Ophelia glanced over her shoulder at her family as they grew further away. Varian and Quirin waved goodbye to her and she waved back. When she crossed the bridge and entered the orchard, she had to turn forward to direct Vanilla along. After passing through the orchard, they arrived in the village. Passing several houses and buildings, Ophelia was approaching the outskirts of Old Corona.

She had one more quick stop to make before leaving.

Past the cluster of buildings, off the main dirt road, and just before the edge of the forest, a burned-out old house barely stood.

Hearing her favorite part of her favorite Flynn Rider book read allowed to her that morning, and because it had been awhile, Ophelia felt she was due to visiting her old house.

Even though she knew she wasn't going to see her parents coming out of there and rush to give her a hug, she liked to stop by every so often.

Vanilla stopped and Ophelia dismounted her. "Stay here. I'll only be a minute," she told the young mare. Vanilla whinnied in understanding before leaning down to nibble at the grass.

Ophelia approached the house, a mix of emotions washing over her; joy from the happy memories from growing up there, and sorrow from not only it burning down, but it burning the same day her parents were killed.

Lifting her skirt up a bit, Ophelia stepped through the empty threshold. The door was gone but most of the floorboards were fine, so Ophelia walked clear into an area that used to be the kitchen. The kitchen her mother taught her how to cook in.

The back wall was collapsed so she could see into the back yard where she, Varian, and her father used to play. All the furniture was gone. The pieces ruined in the fire were tossed and the few that survived with minimal damage, Quirin took into his home.

Luckily, one of those spared pieces was her father's piano.

After moving it into their home, Quirin and Varian helped restore it and made it brand new. Ophelia's gratitude towards those two men knew no bounds. They took her in, looked out for her, and did their best to repair her broken heart. And so far, they had been doing just that.

Ophelia wasn't sure how long she stood there. Only a few minutes perhaps. But eventually, she could hear voices approaching the front of her former home. Two, she could tell.

She wasn't exactly sure why, but Ophelia suddenly felt the need to hide. She feared of being smothered in pity if she was discovered there, in the remains of her old home. This was her private time to think and remember her old life and she didn't want any random-body stumbling in and spoiling it with sympathetic faces and empty words of comfort. She didn't need that right now.

So, swiftly and silently as possible, Ophelia moved over to the still-standing wall in the corner of the kitchen, the middle of the house at her back so no one could see her from the front.

A few feet away, at the front of the house, she could clearly hear two people talking as they came closer. One was an elderly man's voice, the other belonged to a much younger woman. These two voices she quickly recognized; Old Corona residents Hank Robashaw and his neighbor Abigail Pilvin.

"…and then my grandson said I had never told him that story before. And I said 'how can that be? I told it to you last year on your birthday.' I tell ya, children just don't listen these days," the elderly man's voice rang from the front yard.

"That's a shame, Mr. Robashaw," the young woman's voice replied. Then there was a paused. "Oh, speaking of, it's a shame what happened here." Ophelia couldn't see them, but she didn't need to to know the two adults had stopped in front of her house to talk about it.

Great. More gossip about her family. At least they didn't know she was there listening so she could hear what they really thought instead of them telling her comforting things they thought she needed to hear because they felt sorry for her.

So yeah. She was glad she hid. Eavesdropping may not be very polite, but it was better than the alternative.

"Oh yes. Did you know them? The Hilts?"

"Yes indeed. It was my brother-in-law's horses Lucas was trying to save that day. Oh, and his poor wife," the young woman's sorrowful voice lamented.

"Dear sweet Penelope. She used to help my late wife bake bread," Mr. Robashaw added, sadness also in his tone. "They didn't deserve what happened to them that day."

Hearing her parent's names gave Ophelia an odd sense of longing sadness.

"No sir," Miss Pilvin continued. "It makes me so sad every time I pass by this place. I'm just thankful their daughter survived. She was in there when it caught fire, along with Quirin's boy. And thank goodness for Quirin for taking that poor girl in afterwards," she said, her voice uplifting and praising. "Quirin's a hero; always being there and keeping everyone safe."

Pride filled Ophelia, replacing some of the glum. It was no surprise the villagers thought so highly of her uncle, especially after that day. Plus, they considered her parents heroes from that day for trying to help stop the bandits. So their memory was held in high regard as well.

Lost in thought of the amazing adults from her life, the young kitchen maid almost didn't notice the slight paused and light huff from Mr. Robashaw.

"Yes…well, someone had to," he said gruffly.

"Sir?" Miss Pilvin asked, confused.

Ophelia's ears perked up again, a bit confused and very curious. What did he mean by that?

"Miss Pilvin, do you remember that day well?"

"For the most part, yes."

"Well, do you recall seeing any Corona guards anywhere near the village that morning? Or what about during the raid? Because I don't recall seeing a single solider trying to stop them."

"I…" Miss Pilvin's voice paused for a moment while she thought back. "…don't believe I did."

"Exactly. Which is why I'm so thankful for the Hilts, but how tragic what resulted from their heroism. And of course, for Quirin, who was just luckier that day. Still…curiouser, curiouser, wouldn't you say?"

There was a longer pause before the young woman spoke again. "But…that doesn't make any sense. Surely, there must have been some guards around. Perhaps you just don't remember-"

"Miss Pilvin, you and I both know that my age hasn't affected my memory any more than it has yours," Mr. Robashaw cut her off.

"Of…course, sir. I didn't mean to offend you," she apologized. "But if you're right, what does that mean?"

"Who knows?" He himself didn't know how that could be. He just knows that was what happened. "Let us be on our way. I could go for a cup of tea," he said after a much longer pause.

"Me too," Miss Pilvin agreed. All Ophelia heard from them after that were footsteps leading away from her family's former property.

Even after she was sure they were gone a few minutes later, Ophelia stayed where she was. Thinking a hundred crazy things.

What. Was. That?

What did it mean?

Was it true?

There were always guards patrolling every corner of Corona. The capitol, the bridge, the forest, the wall, and definitely Old Corona. It was their job to protect the people, keep order, and handle any trouble and/or troublemakers.

How could they have simply not been around on that particular day? That day of all days. The day they were the most needed. That didn't make any sense at all.

Was Mr. Robashaw right? Were the guards simply off that day? Why? Was that why the bandits came? Why it got so out of hand? Was that why her parents…

Ophelia gasped, feeling her throat start to tighten and her eyes starting to sting.

She was so confused. And scared. She wanted to run back to the Briller house, throw herself into Varian's trusting arms and cry.

But she couldn't. She had to get going. Back to the castle, back to her job.

And maybe she was getting upset over nothing. She didn't know the whole story. Mr. Robashaw just had his own perspective on what happened. Even if the guards weren't there to stop the bandits in time, they must have arrived afterwards to at least arrest them and helped clean up. She didn't remember much from that day after being told what had become of her parents, so she couldn't account for that herself.

After taking serval calming breathes, Ophelia finally left her hiding spot and walked out of the ruined house. She found Vanilla out back, still eating grass. She grabbed the young mare by the reigns and lead her back to the front yard.

She took one last look at the burned ruins of her childhood home before mounting Vanilla and nudging her to move on.

Ophelia and her stead continued on, uninterrupted, as they made their way along the dirt road, through Old Corona, and into the forest.

She noticed the guards patrolling along the path, but she didn't feel like interacting with them this time. She still wasn't sure how to feel or what to think. Seeing them around Old Corona now certainly didn't help.

But that aside, Ophelia tried to remember that she just had an amazing visit home with her beloved uncle and boyfriend. And she couldn't wait to see them again.

End of story #5. Next up is the alternative of the previously existing episode special Queen For a Day. You all know what that means... Drama!

Clarification; (in my stories) Varian and Quirin's last name is 'Briller,' which means shine in French.

Again, really wish I finished this way before the Christmas season began, but c'est la vie. Just glad I got it up just before Christmas Eve. I think this is the last thing I'll be posting this year. So here's to hopefully a better New Year (because 2020 was awful) when I post new stuff.

Stay safe, stay healthy, stay respectful, and stay tuned for next story!

Happy Holidays everyone ;D