Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I
don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.
A/N: This is so much fun to write, and your lovely reviews are the major reason for that. I wasn't going to post this chapter yet, but I thought I might as well before I went on vacation so as to have some reviews in my inbox when I get home to make me happy.
A ton of people addressed me on the part having to do with Gareth's letter and said it was an error. Don't worry, it wasn't a mistake. You'll just have to keep reading to see what happens, won't you?
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.
~~~~~
~ Call it a Gift
~ By Blackberry Ink
~ Chapter Three: Head Around The World
~~~~~
Take your head around the world
See what you get
From your mind
Write your soul down word for word
See who's your friend
Who is kind
It's almost like a disease
I know soon you will be
Over the lies, you'll be strong
You'll be rich in love and you will carry on
But no - Oh no
No you won't be mine.
- Matchbox Twenty – You Won't Be Mine
~~~~~
I woke with the sun the next morning. Going outside to get some water from the well for Mandy I found that it was warmer than it had been yesterday. I could see the early light streaming through the trees and took my time going back inside.
When I came back, Mandy had breakfast prepared for me and I ate and talked with her while she cooked.
"That Gareth boy was nice," Mandy said warily as I took a sip of milk.
"Revolting," I said, swallowing a bite.
"The food?" she wondered.
"How could anyone ever hate your cooking? I'm talking about Gareth."
"Yes, I didn't understand that, love," Mandy said. "You're not normally like that around people."
"He was rude to me first!" I couldn't help but exclaim.
"Well, yesterday was one of the first times I've seen you at least a little bit happy since-"
She cut herself off, and I was happy for it.
"I don't want to talk about Char," I said. But I did. I was longing to talk about him, still. "I think about him enough."
Mandy sighed over her vegetables. "I'm sorry for bringing it up, then, Lady."
"I'm still in love with him," I plowed on. "I look for his picture or writing or anything remotely close to him in the book you gave me every time I get a chance. I think about him every second of the day. I can't get over him. I'll never get over him. I hate Lucinda for what she did to me. I hate Lucinda, I hate Father for trying to marry me off, I hate Dame Olga and her spawn for ordering away my life. I hate the curse for ruining everything good." And I hate myself for always wanting Char, I added in my head. I hate myself for still hurting over him.
And I hated myself even more as I cried in Mandy's arms again. I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore. I'd promised myself I'd be back to normal.
Easier said than done, I supposed after my crying fit was over.
It about an hour until noon when I recalled the letter sitting on my desk. Telling Mandy I'd be back in a moment, I walked to my room and picked in up. I unfolded it and read it again, laughing. Who did this Gareth think he was? This note was probably to lure me out of protection and then rob me of whatever I had. I wasn't that foolish.
Unable to stop myself, I reached into the desk and pulled out my magic book. I was disappointed to find nothing of Char in it. Reluctantly, I put it back where it belonged and went back to the kitchen and Mandy, carrying the note.
Meet me outside the gate of your manor at noon tomorrow.
The words echoed in my head. I looked back down at the paper.
An order. How could I have been so foolish as to not realize it? I looked at the sun as it rose in the sky. It seemed to be about a quarter past eleven, perhaps more. Soon the curse would draw me to the gate and I'd have to meet Gareth. I cringed, then crumpled the note in my fist in anger. Gareth hadn't spoken an order to me all day yesterday, why did he have to write one? And why did I have to read it?
"Hello?" came a small voice from around the corner. I looked ahead to see Tristan, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his shirt as it nearly slid off his shoulder.
"Good morning, Tristan," I said, offering him as big a smile as I could manage.
"'Morning," he mumbled.
I gesticulated for him to follow me, and he did. He went straight to his old haunt by the fireplace, despite how warm it was today, and I gave him some of the lunch Mandy was cooking for breakfast.
"You sure slept late," I said in a falsely bright tone.
He nodded as he shoved food into his mouth as fast as he could.
"No need to eat so fast," I told him. "You might choke."
"You can't take it back if it's in my stomach," he informed me. I nearly laughed at the solemn look on his face, then realized that that was his life. Eating quickly when he could before anyone could take it away.
"You can always come here for food," I assured him. "And I won't take it away."
He actually smiled at that, then continued eating at a slightly slower pace.
Mandy and I talked good-naturedly for a while about this and that and a few things in between.
"What are we going to do with Tristan?" she asked. "I can't very well turn him away."
"Then he'll have to stay," I said. "Nancy has a daughter his age. He won't be lonely."
It was a quarter to noon when I felt a familiar tug at my stomach and a slight pain in my head reminding me that I was supposed to meet Gareth. I groaned, but decided to attempt to ignore it. Perhaps this would be the day I broke the curse.
"I have to go, Mandy," I finally said, five minutes later. The pain in my head was so great that I couldn't even hear her response, and I nearly ran out the door.
The moment I stepped out the door, I felt perfectly fine. I walked as slow as I could to the gate, occasionally stopping just to see if I could. But then the complaints would start up again and I'd have to keep moving.
Gareth, who was quickly becoming the bane of my existence, was standing at the gate as I arrived. The sun was at its highest point in the sky and I could see the light glinting in his eyes. This was the last place I wanted to be.
"I knew you'd come," he said by way of greeting.
"I didn't have a choice," I replied. He kept silent, waiting for me to elaborate. I didn't.
"I wanted to give you something," he told me. I was afraid he would try to take my hand and lead me somewhere, but luck was with me for the moment. Instead, he reached into a cloth bag and produced a pair of shoes. He handed them to me.
"What are these for?"
"You," he said with a hopeful grin. "I thought you might want a pair that won't fall off."
I took the shoes and examined them. They didn't have any heel, like my other pair had. The inside of it was soft and I saw it could be molded to fit my foot. They had laces, just like boots.
"You can run in these," Gareth said. "In case someone else tries to steal something from you, you won't have to rely on people like me to trail after you with your shoes."
Was he giving me a hint? Did he think it easy to steal from me, so he'd give me these so I could run faster and create a challenge for him?
"They're nice," I admitted. "But no thank you."
He looked disappointed when I handed them back. "You don't want them?"
I shook my head, thinking of how lovely it would be to walk in those without having to constantly complain of foot pain. "No, I don't." Not if they were from him. "Why don't you sell them? Make some money."
"I make enough money with shoes," he said. "These are a gift."
"Shoes?" I wondered.
"I'm an apprentice shoemaker," he explicated.
"Like in the story," I said, half to myself.
"What did you say?"
"A shoemaker, like in the story," I repeated. He seemed lost. "The Elves and the Shoemaker. You must have heard of it."
He shook his head. "Will you tell me?"
I gave him a sharp look. I had expected him to order me to tell him. But he issued as few orders to me as Mother once had. I took a breath, then told him the version of the story I had read while visiting the elves. He was like Mandy in the way he listened, laughing and gasping and sighing in all the right parts. He grinned as I finished.
"Not all shoemakers are that inept," he told me.
"I'd like to meet one who breaks that mold." He laughed, as he did with all my insults. It was grating on my nerves.
"Your throat is dry,' he said. "You must be thirsty."
I was. But if I said yes, he would surely want to go to the nearby stream or well to get water with me. I didn't want that.
But thirst won over. "Yes, I am," I managed.
"There's a stream right over there," he said, as I knew he would. "We can get water."
The silver lining on the otherwise gray cloud of having to spend more time with him was that he didn't talk to me as we walked. He knew I was too parched for speech.
He took off his shoes and socks and stuck his feet in the stream while I drank my fill.
"Aren't you cold?" I said as I finished. He turned to look at me.
"No. It's nice out today."
"But the water's freezing."
"Worried I'll catch a chill?" he said, smirking.
That quieted me. I didn't care if he was cold, I was just asking.
"I'd better get back," I announced. "Mandy will be upset if I'm gone long." It was a lie, but I wanted to get back to the comfort and safety of the kitchen.
"If you must," he said. "But will you at least take the shoes?"
I glanced at the shoes he was holding. I wanted them, yes. But not from him.
"Please," he said. "I want you to have them." He put on a mournful pout.
"Fine," I said, grabbing them from his hands. "If it lets me get rid of you, once and for all."
He tapped his nose and laughed "It's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me."
"I don't have to see you if I don't want to," I lied. Unless he ordered me to. I hoped he wouldn't.
"You came today," he pointed out, pushing his hair out of his face again.
I chose to ignore that, because I could offer him no explanation that he would believe.
"Meet me tomorrow," he said. "Same time, same place."
I groaned. Another order. I should have covered my ears.
"See you then!" he called after me as I felt. I could hear a cocky grin in his voice and resisted the urge to run back and wipe it off.
~~~~~
"Where were you?" Mandy asked as I returned.
"I went to the stream," I said. It wasn't a lie. I didn't feel like telling her who I went with, was all.
"With Gareth?"
So much for not telling her.
"Yes," I said. "He ordered me to, yesterday."
"I thought as much," she said. "Are you going back tomorrow?"
I frowned. "Unfortunately, yes. Gareth the Insufferable ordered me to again." My face brightened. "You could order me not to go! Would you, Mandy?"
She smiled over her food. "I think it would be good for you to see him, love. To get your mind off other things."
Like Char? I wanted to say. Impossible.
~~~~~
Gareth was standing by the gate waiting for me the next day, leaning against a large tree with leaves just beginning to turn red. He flashed me one of his arrogant grins, as if he had won by making me want to be here. I grated my heel into hit foot as he said hello, causing him to sound a lot like Hattie as he yelped. It made me feel slightly better.
"You're not wearing the shoes," he said, gesturing to my feet.
"No," I said. Truth be told, I had worn them all afternoon yesterday. They were quite comfortable, but I wasn't about to tell him that. He might think I liked them.
I spent the next ten minutes successfully shooting down any of his attempts at conversation. At last, he threw up his hands in defeat.
"Why did you even come if you're not planning on talking to me, Ella?" he asked.
I frowned at him. "I don't think I have to explain myself to you."
He shook his head. "I'll see you tomorrow, then? Meet me here at noon."
Shame. I had almost thought he was not going to issue another command. I left without answering him, but I knew I'd have to be there again tomorrow.
And the next day, as it turned out. It was the same every day: we'd talk by the gate (or, rather, he'd talk and I'd try my best not to), then I'd tell him I had to go and he'd give me a command without realizing he was doing so and I'd have to come back the next day.
Mandy was wrong about our meetings making me stop thinking about Char. I still thought of him all the time, even with Gareth. But, though I hated to admit it, I was beginning to hate our meetings less and less. I got to laugh during them, and even though the pain of leaving Char didn't seem to ebb, I was getting used to it.
"I brought food," he told me, two weeks later as I came out of the manor gate.
"Mmm, good," I said. "I'm hungry."
He looked surprised at me not making some sort of retort, but I just looked innocently up at him.
"Well? What did you bring?"
"Oh, yes," he said. "Bread, soup, some lettuce thing, and chicken. And some goblets so we can have a drink by the stream."
We brought the food to the stream and he gave me my food on a plate. I filled the two goblets with water from the spring and the beginning of the stream. When I returned, he had taken the best place to sit, underneath my favorite tree.
I raised my eyebrows. "That's my place," I told him. "Get up."
He grinned. "You're welcome to share."
"Not likely," I said, sighing and settling for a spot on a large rock a few yards away from him. "Where did you get this food from?" It suddenly seemed likely that he'd stolen it. I stopped eating.
"Not to worry. I paid for it," he said earnestly. I looked skeptically at him, but resumed the meal. I'd never actually seen him steal anything. I may as well believe him.
After leaving Gareth that afternoon (with an unwitting command to come back), Hattie ordered me to her chambers again. I reluctantly obeyed.
"Edmund has asked to call on me again," she said. I noted that she had dropped the title.
"Did he?"
"Yes. He seemed eager to see me again. And how can I blame him?"
"He must be quite desperate for a wife," I said.
"That was rude, Ella. Apologize."
I hesitated. Then, "I'm sorry for telling the truth, Hattie."
Hattie didn't seem to understand for a moment, then told me curtly that I could leave.
~~~~~
"My parents both died when I was seven," Gareth was telling me the next day. "I lived with my older sister and her husband for a while after that, but the husband hated me."
"Cannot imagine why," I said sarcastically.
"I left their house a year after that. But I couldn't stay in Bast because I was afraid my sister would find me and bring me back to live with her. So I left for Frell. I'd heard a lot of great things about this place."
"Does it live up to them?" I wondered aloud.
He shrugged. "I suppose it does. Anyway, I met another boy about my age who was the son of the shoemaker. He did a lot of odd jobs around his house and I helped. I was fascinated with the shoes."
For some reason, I could help but giggle slightly.
"What's funny?" he asked in fake indignation. But I could see he was smiling at making me laugh.
It felt strange to laugh, but I couldn't help myself. I hadn't truly laughed in a while. But then I thought of Char's laughter, and I stopped. It used to be so easy for me to make him laugh. I could hear the sound of it while at the menagerie, while at the old castle, while on the road away from finishing school, in his letters, at the ball. I could feel the tears start. I brushed them away before Gareth could see them.
"Something wrong?"
"No," I said. "Nothing. Please, go on. Why were you so fascinated with shoes?"
He smiled again. "I have no idea. But I know that the shoemaker's son was more than happy to give up his right to apprentice his father. So when I came of age, I got the job. I suppose I've had it for the past five years or so. Another five and I am a certified shoemaker."
"Congratulations," I said.
"No, not yet. But thank you anyway."
He lay down on his side in the grass and propped his head up on his hand. I shifted over another foot away from him.
"So what about you?" he asked. "Was your childhood as exciting as mine?"
I had been thinking about Char, but his question snapped me out of my reverie.
"Not nearly," I said.
"Well, something had to have happened. You say your father is Sir Peter. Which makes you daughter of that Olga woman. She's quite repellent, if you don't mind me saying so."
"I don't mind. In fact, I agree," I said. "But I'm not her daughter."
"But her husband is your father?" He grinned. "That makes you an illegitimate love child. How thrilling."
"Dame Olga is my father's second wife," I said. "I'm her step- daughter."
"Oh." Gareth looked slightly disappointed. "That's still exciting, I suppose."
"No, it's not," I told him. "It's horrible. She hates me."
"That explains the servant's garb, then."
I looked sideways at him. "Yes," I said softly.
"Does your father know?"
"No. Yes. A bit."
He leaned up from his spot on the ground so that he was sitting, facing me with about five feet between us.
"Well, don't worry," he said. "There has to be a way to fix that. There's a way to fix everything."
Is there? I thought. Then what about Char? There didn't seem to be a way to fix that.
"I suppose you're right," I said. I stood up. "I should go. It's nearly an hour after noon."
"See you tomorrow?" he asked. No order.
"Yes," I said, after a moment. "Same time, same place."
He smiled.
~~~~~
When I looked in my magic book that night, I was especially lucky to find two articles having to do with Char. I found an entry in his journal, accompanied by a picture. I read eagerly.
She has been in my mind often recently. I know I promised
myself I wouldn't write of her again, but I can't help but
break the promise. I am on a journey similar to the one
that I found her on months ago. Every morning I wake up,
thinking of her. It would be so much easier to capture
these ogres if she were here. And I desperately want to
talk to her again, despite the fact that she's not who I
thought she was.
I suppose the person I want to talk to is the Ella I fell
in love with. The Ella I searched for at her father's
wedding, the Ella in the letters she wrote. Then I remind
myself that that person doesn't exist anywhere but my mind.
The real Ella is a fraud. I'm sure she'd forgotten me
already. I'm sure she hated me the whole time. I wish I
could hate her.
I tell myself this everyday, yet I still think of her. I'm
starting to think I am hopeless. I should have forgotten
about her by now. It's been nearly eight months. But I'm as
much in love with her – the Ella I thought I knew – as
ever.
To make things worse, Bertram mentioned her today while we
were studying our Ogrese. This caused all the rest of my
knights to launch into conversation about her. Of course I
didn't join in the conversation. I had to leave. I was
afraid of how I would react if they spoke so much about
this girl that I can never have.
Now that I've thoroughly broken the promise, I suppose I
should go help Stephan start the fire. Perhaps I shall
throw this page into it.
I couldn't help but sigh at reading this. He still cared about me! I wasn't the only pining away, he pined for me, too!
But I caused him pain. I felt terrible at being happy that he thought of me. It would be better if he forgot about me. At least he would be free of that pain. And all I wanted was for him to be happy.
I turned to the picture, which showed him staying true to his word and throwing what looked like the page of his journal into the fire. Sir Stephan was looking confused at Char's actions, but Char looked angry and determined as he stared at the fire. Angry at me. Determined to forget me.
The person he fell in love with didn't exist, he had said. I longed to run and run until I reached him so I could shout at him no, no don't think that, love. I do exist, and I do love you and I do think of you every moment of every day of every week of every month. The two months we'd been apart seemed to stretch to be longer than an age, and the ache I felt to touch him felt ancient. I could still hear the echo of his laughter clear in my ears, but I'd do anything to hear it again. I wanted the sound of his laughter to be the last thing I heard before I died.
I kissed his picture. I looked at his hands, clutching his journal. I loved those hands. I looked at his eyes and found myself lost in them, seas of blue. My yearning for him was greater than it had been in days; so great that I seriously considered stealing one of Dame Olga's horse and riding to him. But I reminded myself of the curse, and I tried to shut away the thought of him. I couldn't.
Oh, how I wanted to be able to love him. I felt I was under two curses: Lucinda's and the curse of loving Char. I wondered if I had a chance at breaking either.
~~~~~
A/N: Thanks to Tempest Dragon, Gwen, Star Fighter Heart, Swishy Willow Wand, anonymous, angelwings6117, babyjayy, Tokyobabe2040, The Queen of the Pugs, and singinstrawberri for reviewing. Let me say again that you guys are so amazing.
Most people seemed to pick up on the fact that Gareth's letter was an order. My beta didn't even notice, so good on you all.
Gwen: Those compliments meant a lot to me, as well as the pointers. I didn't even notice my dialect errors – I'll have to go back and change them.
angelwings6117: Hmm. I did have the plot planned out, but your ideas are pretty interesting and inspired me to change it just a little bit (and maybe eventually more). Thanks for the thoughts!
Next chapter: In which Ella receives something she's been dreading and finds something she didn't expect. Should be up by next weekend.
Edit: Thank you, fantasyfan for pointing out my error with Char's letter. For the record, I do read these chapters over and have them edited, despite this continuity error. But only one reviewer noticed, so I guess it was pretty easy to overlook. (If you didn't notice it, I'm not telling!)
A/N: This is so much fun to write, and your lovely reviews are the major reason for that. I wasn't going to post this chapter yet, but I thought I might as well before I went on vacation so as to have some reviews in my inbox when I get home to make me happy.
A ton of people addressed me on the part having to do with Gareth's letter and said it was an error. Don't worry, it wasn't a mistake. You'll just have to keep reading to see what happens, won't you?
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.
~~~~~
~ Call it a Gift
~ By Blackberry Ink
~ Chapter Three: Head Around The World
~~~~~
Take your head around the world
See what you get
From your mind
Write your soul down word for word
See who's your friend
Who is kind
It's almost like a disease
I know soon you will be
Over the lies, you'll be strong
You'll be rich in love and you will carry on
But no - Oh no
No you won't be mine.
- Matchbox Twenty – You Won't Be Mine
~~~~~
I woke with the sun the next morning. Going outside to get some water from the well for Mandy I found that it was warmer than it had been yesterday. I could see the early light streaming through the trees and took my time going back inside.
When I came back, Mandy had breakfast prepared for me and I ate and talked with her while she cooked.
"That Gareth boy was nice," Mandy said warily as I took a sip of milk.
"Revolting," I said, swallowing a bite.
"The food?" she wondered.
"How could anyone ever hate your cooking? I'm talking about Gareth."
"Yes, I didn't understand that, love," Mandy said. "You're not normally like that around people."
"He was rude to me first!" I couldn't help but exclaim.
"Well, yesterday was one of the first times I've seen you at least a little bit happy since-"
She cut herself off, and I was happy for it.
"I don't want to talk about Char," I said. But I did. I was longing to talk about him, still. "I think about him enough."
Mandy sighed over her vegetables. "I'm sorry for bringing it up, then, Lady."
"I'm still in love with him," I plowed on. "I look for his picture or writing or anything remotely close to him in the book you gave me every time I get a chance. I think about him every second of the day. I can't get over him. I'll never get over him. I hate Lucinda for what she did to me. I hate Lucinda, I hate Father for trying to marry me off, I hate Dame Olga and her spawn for ordering away my life. I hate the curse for ruining everything good." And I hate myself for always wanting Char, I added in my head. I hate myself for still hurting over him.
And I hated myself even more as I cried in Mandy's arms again. I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore. I'd promised myself I'd be back to normal.
Easier said than done, I supposed after my crying fit was over.
It about an hour until noon when I recalled the letter sitting on my desk. Telling Mandy I'd be back in a moment, I walked to my room and picked in up. I unfolded it and read it again, laughing. Who did this Gareth think he was? This note was probably to lure me out of protection and then rob me of whatever I had. I wasn't that foolish.
Unable to stop myself, I reached into the desk and pulled out my magic book. I was disappointed to find nothing of Char in it. Reluctantly, I put it back where it belonged and went back to the kitchen and Mandy, carrying the note.
Meet me outside the gate of your manor at noon tomorrow.
The words echoed in my head. I looked back down at the paper.
An order. How could I have been so foolish as to not realize it? I looked at the sun as it rose in the sky. It seemed to be about a quarter past eleven, perhaps more. Soon the curse would draw me to the gate and I'd have to meet Gareth. I cringed, then crumpled the note in my fist in anger. Gareth hadn't spoken an order to me all day yesterday, why did he have to write one? And why did I have to read it?
"Hello?" came a small voice from around the corner. I looked ahead to see Tristan, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his shirt as it nearly slid off his shoulder.
"Good morning, Tristan," I said, offering him as big a smile as I could manage.
"'Morning," he mumbled.
I gesticulated for him to follow me, and he did. He went straight to his old haunt by the fireplace, despite how warm it was today, and I gave him some of the lunch Mandy was cooking for breakfast.
"You sure slept late," I said in a falsely bright tone.
He nodded as he shoved food into his mouth as fast as he could.
"No need to eat so fast," I told him. "You might choke."
"You can't take it back if it's in my stomach," he informed me. I nearly laughed at the solemn look on his face, then realized that that was his life. Eating quickly when he could before anyone could take it away.
"You can always come here for food," I assured him. "And I won't take it away."
He actually smiled at that, then continued eating at a slightly slower pace.
Mandy and I talked good-naturedly for a while about this and that and a few things in between.
"What are we going to do with Tristan?" she asked. "I can't very well turn him away."
"Then he'll have to stay," I said. "Nancy has a daughter his age. He won't be lonely."
It was a quarter to noon when I felt a familiar tug at my stomach and a slight pain in my head reminding me that I was supposed to meet Gareth. I groaned, but decided to attempt to ignore it. Perhaps this would be the day I broke the curse.
"I have to go, Mandy," I finally said, five minutes later. The pain in my head was so great that I couldn't even hear her response, and I nearly ran out the door.
The moment I stepped out the door, I felt perfectly fine. I walked as slow as I could to the gate, occasionally stopping just to see if I could. But then the complaints would start up again and I'd have to keep moving.
Gareth, who was quickly becoming the bane of my existence, was standing at the gate as I arrived. The sun was at its highest point in the sky and I could see the light glinting in his eyes. This was the last place I wanted to be.
"I knew you'd come," he said by way of greeting.
"I didn't have a choice," I replied. He kept silent, waiting for me to elaborate. I didn't.
"I wanted to give you something," he told me. I was afraid he would try to take my hand and lead me somewhere, but luck was with me for the moment. Instead, he reached into a cloth bag and produced a pair of shoes. He handed them to me.
"What are these for?"
"You," he said with a hopeful grin. "I thought you might want a pair that won't fall off."
I took the shoes and examined them. They didn't have any heel, like my other pair had. The inside of it was soft and I saw it could be molded to fit my foot. They had laces, just like boots.
"You can run in these," Gareth said. "In case someone else tries to steal something from you, you won't have to rely on people like me to trail after you with your shoes."
Was he giving me a hint? Did he think it easy to steal from me, so he'd give me these so I could run faster and create a challenge for him?
"They're nice," I admitted. "But no thank you."
He looked disappointed when I handed them back. "You don't want them?"
I shook my head, thinking of how lovely it would be to walk in those without having to constantly complain of foot pain. "No, I don't." Not if they were from him. "Why don't you sell them? Make some money."
"I make enough money with shoes," he said. "These are a gift."
"Shoes?" I wondered.
"I'm an apprentice shoemaker," he explicated.
"Like in the story," I said, half to myself.
"What did you say?"
"A shoemaker, like in the story," I repeated. He seemed lost. "The Elves and the Shoemaker. You must have heard of it."
He shook his head. "Will you tell me?"
I gave him a sharp look. I had expected him to order me to tell him. But he issued as few orders to me as Mother once had. I took a breath, then told him the version of the story I had read while visiting the elves. He was like Mandy in the way he listened, laughing and gasping and sighing in all the right parts. He grinned as I finished.
"Not all shoemakers are that inept," he told me.
"I'd like to meet one who breaks that mold." He laughed, as he did with all my insults. It was grating on my nerves.
"Your throat is dry,' he said. "You must be thirsty."
I was. But if I said yes, he would surely want to go to the nearby stream or well to get water with me. I didn't want that.
But thirst won over. "Yes, I am," I managed.
"There's a stream right over there," he said, as I knew he would. "We can get water."
The silver lining on the otherwise gray cloud of having to spend more time with him was that he didn't talk to me as we walked. He knew I was too parched for speech.
He took off his shoes and socks and stuck his feet in the stream while I drank my fill.
"Aren't you cold?" I said as I finished. He turned to look at me.
"No. It's nice out today."
"But the water's freezing."
"Worried I'll catch a chill?" he said, smirking.
That quieted me. I didn't care if he was cold, I was just asking.
"I'd better get back," I announced. "Mandy will be upset if I'm gone long." It was a lie, but I wanted to get back to the comfort and safety of the kitchen.
"If you must," he said. "But will you at least take the shoes?"
I glanced at the shoes he was holding. I wanted them, yes. But not from him.
"Please," he said. "I want you to have them." He put on a mournful pout.
"Fine," I said, grabbing them from his hands. "If it lets me get rid of you, once and for all."
He tapped his nose and laughed "It's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me."
"I don't have to see you if I don't want to," I lied. Unless he ordered me to. I hoped he wouldn't.
"You came today," he pointed out, pushing his hair out of his face again.
I chose to ignore that, because I could offer him no explanation that he would believe.
"Meet me tomorrow," he said. "Same time, same place."
I groaned. Another order. I should have covered my ears.
"See you then!" he called after me as I felt. I could hear a cocky grin in his voice and resisted the urge to run back and wipe it off.
~~~~~
"Where were you?" Mandy asked as I returned.
"I went to the stream," I said. It wasn't a lie. I didn't feel like telling her who I went with, was all.
"With Gareth?"
So much for not telling her.
"Yes," I said. "He ordered me to, yesterday."
"I thought as much," she said. "Are you going back tomorrow?"
I frowned. "Unfortunately, yes. Gareth the Insufferable ordered me to again." My face brightened. "You could order me not to go! Would you, Mandy?"
She smiled over her food. "I think it would be good for you to see him, love. To get your mind off other things."
Like Char? I wanted to say. Impossible.
~~~~~
Gareth was standing by the gate waiting for me the next day, leaning against a large tree with leaves just beginning to turn red. He flashed me one of his arrogant grins, as if he had won by making me want to be here. I grated my heel into hit foot as he said hello, causing him to sound a lot like Hattie as he yelped. It made me feel slightly better.
"You're not wearing the shoes," he said, gesturing to my feet.
"No," I said. Truth be told, I had worn them all afternoon yesterday. They were quite comfortable, but I wasn't about to tell him that. He might think I liked them.
I spent the next ten minutes successfully shooting down any of his attempts at conversation. At last, he threw up his hands in defeat.
"Why did you even come if you're not planning on talking to me, Ella?" he asked.
I frowned at him. "I don't think I have to explain myself to you."
He shook his head. "I'll see you tomorrow, then? Meet me here at noon."
Shame. I had almost thought he was not going to issue another command. I left without answering him, but I knew I'd have to be there again tomorrow.
And the next day, as it turned out. It was the same every day: we'd talk by the gate (or, rather, he'd talk and I'd try my best not to), then I'd tell him I had to go and he'd give me a command without realizing he was doing so and I'd have to come back the next day.
Mandy was wrong about our meetings making me stop thinking about Char. I still thought of him all the time, even with Gareth. But, though I hated to admit it, I was beginning to hate our meetings less and less. I got to laugh during them, and even though the pain of leaving Char didn't seem to ebb, I was getting used to it.
"I brought food," he told me, two weeks later as I came out of the manor gate.
"Mmm, good," I said. "I'm hungry."
He looked surprised at me not making some sort of retort, but I just looked innocently up at him.
"Well? What did you bring?"
"Oh, yes," he said. "Bread, soup, some lettuce thing, and chicken. And some goblets so we can have a drink by the stream."
We brought the food to the stream and he gave me my food on a plate. I filled the two goblets with water from the spring and the beginning of the stream. When I returned, he had taken the best place to sit, underneath my favorite tree.
I raised my eyebrows. "That's my place," I told him. "Get up."
He grinned. "You're welcome to share."
"Not likely," I said, sighing and settling for a spot on a large rock a few yards away from him. "Where did you get this food from?" It suddenly seemed likely that he'd stolen it. I stopped eating.
"Not to worry. I paid for it," he said earnestly. I looked skeptically at him, but resumed the meal. I'd never actually seen him steal anything. I may as well believe him.
After leaving Gareth that afternoon (with an unwitting command to come back), Hattie ordered me to her chambers again. I reluctantly obeyed.
"Edmund has asked to call on me again," she said. I noted that she had dropped the title.
"Did he?"
"Yes. He seemed eager to see me again. And how can I blame him?"
"He must be quite desperate for a wife," I said.
"That was rude, Ella. Apologize."
I hesitated. Then, "I'm sorry for telling the truth, Hattie."
Hattie didn't seem to understand for a moment, then told me curtly that I could leave.
~~~~~
"My parents both died when I was seven," Gareth was telling me the next day. "I lived with my older sister and her husband for a while after that, but the husband hated me."
"Cannot imagine why," I said sarcastically.
"I left their house a year after that. But I couldn't stay in Bast because I was afraid my sister would find me and bring me back to live with her. So I left for Frell. I'd heard a lot of great things about this place."
"Does it live up to them?" I wondered aloud.
He shrugged. "I suppose it does. Anyway, I met another boy about my age who was the son of the shoemaker. He did a lot of odd jobs around his house and I helped. I was fascinated with the shoes."
For some reason, I could help but giggle slightly.
"What's funny?" he asked in fake indignation. But I could see he was smiling at making me laugh.
It felt strange to laugh, but I couldn't help myself. I hadn't truly laughed in a while. But then I thought of Char's laughter, and I stopped. It used to be so easy for me to make him laugh. I could hear the sound of it while at the menagerie, while at the old castle, while on the road away from finishing school, in his letters, at the ball. I could feel the tears start. I brushed them away before Gareth could see them.
"Something wrong?"
"No," I said. "Nothing. Please, go on. Why were you so fascinated with shoes?"
He smiled again. "I have no idea. But I know that the shoemaker's son was more than happy to give up his right to apprentice his father. So when I came of age, I got the job. I suppose I've had it for the past five years or so. Another five and I am a certified shoemaker."
"Congratulations," I said.
"No, not yet. But thank you anyway."
He lay down on his side in the grass and propped his head up on his hand. I shifted over another foot away from him.
"So what about you?" he asked. "Was your childhood as exciting as mine?"
I had been thinking about Char, but his question snapped me out of my reverie.
"Not nearly," I said.
"Well, something had to have happened. You say your father is Sir Peter. Which makes you daughter of that Olga woman. She's quite repellent, if you don't mind me saying so."
"I don't mind. In fact, I agree," I said. "But I'm not her daughter."
"But her husband is your father?" He grinned. "That makes you an illegitimate love child. How thrilling."
"Dame Olga is my father's second wife," I said. "I'm her step- daughter."
"Oh." Gareth looked slightly disappointed. "That's still exciting, I suppose."
"No, it's not," I told him. "It's horrible. She hates me."
"That explains the servant's garb, then."
I looked sideways at him. "Yes," I said softly.
"Does your father know?"
"No. Yes. A bit."
He leaned up from his spot on the ground so that he was sitting, facing me with about five feet between us.
"Well, don't worry," he said. "There has to be a way to fix that. There's a way to fix everything."
Is there? I thought. Then what about Char? There didn't seem to be a way to fix that.
"I suppose you're right," I said. I stood up. "I should go. It's nearly an hour after noon."
"See you tomorrow?" he asked. No order.
"Yes," I said, after a moment. "Same time, same place."
He smiled.
~~~~~
When I looked in my magic book that night, I was especially lucky to find two articles having to do with Char. I found an entry in his journal, accompanied by a picture. I read eagerly.
She has been in my mind often recently. I know I promised
myself I wouldn't write of her again, but I can't help but
break the promise. I am on a journey similar to the one
that I found her on months ago. Every morning I wake up,
thinking of her. It would be so much easier to capture
these ogres if she were here. And I desperately want to
talk to her again, despite the fact that she's not who I
thought she was.
I suppose the person I want to talk to is the Ella I fell
in love with. The Ella I searched for at her father's
wedding, the Ella in the letters she wrote. Then I remind
myself that that person doesn't exist anywhere but my mind.
The real Ella is a fraud. I'm sure she'd forgotten me
already. I'm sure she hated me the whole time. I wish I
could hate her.
I tell myself this everyday, yet I still think of her. I'm
starting to think I am hopeless. I should have forgotten
about her by now. It's been nearly eight months. But I'm as
much in love with her – the Ella I thought I knew – as
ever.
To make things worse, Bertram mentioned her today while we
were studying our Ogrese. This caused all the rest of my
knights to launch into conversation about her. Of course I
didn't join in the conversation. I had to leave. I was
afraid of how I would react if they spoke so much about
this girl that I can never have.
Now that I've thoroughly broken the promise, I suppose I
should go help Stephan start the fire. Perhaps I shall
throw this page into it.
I couldn't help but sigh at reading this. He still cared about me! I wasn't the only pining away, he pined for me, too!
But I caused him pain. I felt terrible at being happy that he thought of me. It would be better if he forgot about me. At least he would be free of that pain. And all I wanted was for him to be happy.
I turned to the picture, which showed him staying true to his word and throwing what looked like the page of his journal into the fire. Sir Stephan was looking confused at Char's actions, but Char looked angry and determined as he stared at the fire. Angry at me. Determined to forget me.
The person he fell in love with didn't exist, he had said. I longed to run and run until I reached him so I could shout at him no, no don't think that, love. I do exist, and I do love you and I do think of you every moment of every day of every week of every month. The two months we'd been apart seemed to stretch to be longer than an age, and the ache I felt to touch him felt ancient. I could still hear the echo of his laughter clear in my ears, but I'd do anything to hear it again. I wanted the sound of his laughter to be the last thing I heard before I died.
I kissed his picture. I looked at his hands, clutching his journal. I loved those hands. I looked at his eyes and found myself lost in them, seas of blue. My yearning for him was greater than it had been in days; so great that I seriously considered stealing one of Dame Olga's horse and riding to him. But I reminded myself of the curse, and I tried to shut away the thought of him. I couldn't.
Oh, how I wanted to be able to love him. I felt I was under two curses: Lucinda's and the curse of loving Char. I wondered if I had a chance at breaking either.
~~~~~
A/N: Thanks to Tempest Dragon, Gwen, Star Fighter Heart, Swishy Willow Wand, anonymous, angelwings6117, babyjayy, Tokyobabe2040, The Queen of the Pugs, and singinstrawberri for reviewing. Let me say again that you guys are so amazing.
Most people seemed to pick up on the fact that Gareth's letter was an order. My beta didn't even notice, so good on you all.
Gwen: Those compliments meant a lot to me, as well as the pointers. I didn't even notice my dialect errors – I'll have to go back and change them.
angelwings6117: Hmm. I did have the plot planned out, but your ideas are pretty interesting and inspired me to change it just a little bit (and maybe eventually more). Thanks for the thoughts!
Next chapter: In which Ella receives something she's been dreading and finds something she didn't expect. Should be up by next weekend.
Edit: Thank you, fantasyfan for pointing out my error with Char's letter. For the record, I do read these chapters over and have them edited, despite this continuity error. But only one reviewer noticed, so I guess it was pretty easy to overlook. (If you didn't notice it, I'm not telling!)