Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.

A/N: Thanks again to the wonderful Dulcis Caelum for the beta.

I felt like you all got jipped on the last chapter by me leaving it off so short. So I'll try to skip on the messages for this one and get to the writing.

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 Nine: The Long And Winding Road

The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear.
I've seen that road before.
It always leads me her.
Lead me to you door.

The Long And Winding Road – The Beatles

"So where are we going, exactly?" I asked.

It had been over an hour and we were in the forests outside Frell. We had stopped only briefly at the shoemaker's for Gareth's things and a bit of food. He hadn't dared to look for the shoemaker he had been apprenticed to for fear of leaving a clue for anyone out looking for me. I hadn't dared use what few coins I had to buy any supplies out of the same fear.

He paused a moment before saying, "Bast."

"Bast?"

He nodded. "I grew up there. I did tell you that?"

"Yes," I recalled. "And you left because one of your guardians-"

"- Hated me," Gareth finished. "Which makes us two peas in a pod, doesn't it? You've got dear old Dame Olga and I've got my sister's lovely husband."

"And I get to leave the bane of my existence behind while every step we take is another closer to yours," I said. "It makes me wonder if your skull is screwed on properly."

He tapped his head twice as if to make sure. "I believe it is, but I can assure you that you're not the first to think differently."

Gareth gave a playful tug on the sleeve of my dress as I laughed and said, "I wouldn't argue with that."

Gareth and I walked through the underbrush of the forests, much in the same fashion as I had done when I had escaped from finishing school. Despite the fact that the newness of the idea had been replaced by urgency to keep from being caught, the journey was proving infinitely better because of the company.

As dark began to settle around us I discovered a large patch of moss as soft as goose feathers sitting under the cover of an old maple. We didn't bother to make a fire as it was early summer and we required neither warmth nor heat to cook over. Gareth pulled from his pack some bread, broke it, and gave me half. I devoured my piece before I even got a chance to take the weight off my feet.

"It lasts longer if you eat slower, you know," he said.

"I'm going to sleep. And you brought enough for us to eat in the morning, did you not?"

He bit his lip, which succeeded in making him look like an impish child. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

"If we steal a bit along the way, perhaps."

I shook my head. "No. We are not stealing breakfast from any one. We're not common criminals. At least I'm not a common criminal. I'm not entirely sure about your years before I met you-"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

I flopped down on the moss and smoothed my skirt to cover my ankles. "You know what I meant, Gareth."

"I don't."

"You as good as told me you'd used thievery to get your way to Frell."

"I certainly did not," he said, suddenly going rigid. "I worked-"

"When you were seven?"

"I worked," he insisted. "From Bast to Frell and found a steady job when I got there."

I rose to a sitting position and folded my knees to my chest. He was turned away from me and his pale-brown hair was anything but flat atop his head. I saw his shoulders rise and fall with each breath he took and I felt a snap inside my chest. It wasn't rational to quarrel over something so foolish. I couldn't bear him not looking at me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sure you worked. You could have-"

"No, I'm sorry," he said, turning to face me with a corner of his mouth turned up, leaning towards a small grin. "I may have stolen a little – a lot – to get to Frell. I just don't normally tell people that I did." He tossed his pack on the ground against the tree. "But you're not a normal person, are you, Ella?"

"I suppose I should take that as a complement," I said, raising my eyebrows in what could almost be considered ladylike distain.

"It meant that you're my friend," he said, with a hint of decisiveness. "And the first real one I've had since I left Bast."

I had known it all along, of course, but if felt good to hear him say it. I wanted to say something just as frank – to tell him that I felt the same, and that I felt glad to have him with me, but my tongue felt stuck and that all that came out was, "Lucky for you then, isn't it?"

He snorted. "That's kind of you. Here I am, pouring out my poor wretched heart and all you have to say is that I'm lucky to have you as a friend. Lucky, indeed."

I grinned, glad the temporary tension was gone. "It's because of your influence."

"I'm sure."

A cool breeze brushed over us, tussling my hair a moment before letting it be, a bit more tangled than before. As Gareth came to sit next to me I stretched my legs out and lay down against the moss once more.

"We should get started again at dawn," I murmured. "If Dame Olga's sent someone after us, they probably won't be starting so early."

"Right," Gareth said, lying down beside me so that our heads were touching. I felt my heartbeat quicken and turned my face towards the sky to quell it.

"How far is Bast from here, do you think?" I hadn't gotten a chance to consult my magic book on the distance yet, because I wasn't sure I wanted to show it to Gareth yet. I had never showed it to a human before, and while I trusted Gareth, my hand was never steady when I tried to pull it out of my pack while he was there. So it remained hidden.

"Three more days walking," he said. "It's closer than you think when you look at a map."

"Have you made the journey often, then?"

He shook his head. "No, just the once. I never wanted to risk going back."

"Until now."

"Until now," he agreed.

"What will you do if we run into your sister?" I wondered.

He shrugged and wrinkled his nose. "I'd like to see her. It's been a while."

"Ten years is a long while."

"More than ten years," he said. He turned on his side and propped his head up on one hand as he looked at me. "Eleven, I believe."

"So you're-"

"Nineteen," he said. "Left home when I was barely eight."

I found my mouth dry and incapable of speech. Not out of shock – I'd heard the tale before, at least this much of it. But the nonchalant tone he spoke in made it hard for me to think of what to say. At eight I was at home and happy with my mother, playing everyday, helping Mandy cook, not worrying about curses and princes and stepmothers. At eight Gareth was alone in the world, just looking for a way to get by.

"I wish I'd known you then," I said. "When you'd just come to Frell."

He chuckled. "No, you don't. I was a self-righteous brat."

I recalled the day I'd first met him, how he'd held my shoes out of my reach until I'd given him payment. And how I'd loathed him for days until I hadn't been able to stop liking him.

"I could believe that," I admitted. "But you got better."

"A bit better." He reached out his hand to move a stray piece of hair out of my face. His hands were rougher even than Char's.

"We'd better get to sleep," I said, and it came out a bit brusquer than I'd intended.

He nodded and let his hand collapse so that his head was on the ground. "Good night, Ella."

"Good night."

By the end of the fourth day I felt as sore as ever. We had almost run out of what provisions we'd brought, so our recent rations had been too meager for my liking. We hadn't come across anyone on the road, though, and that in itself was a blessing.

"When we reach that bend in the road up ahead," Gareth said, gesturing forward. "It'll be in sight."

I heaved a sigh and smiled. "Will we reach it tonight?"

"We'll have to. We're all out of food. We can scrounge up something in town."

"And should we stay at an inn tonight?"

"Do we have the money to stay at an inn tonight?"

"I have a few silver KJs from my father," I said. "Enough for a night and a meal."

"Good enough, then," he said. "I'll talk to my sister tomorrow. Hopefully while her husband is out working."

I felt obliged to say something about how he couldn't be that bad, but I knew too much about less-than-pleasant family members to be able to speak truthfully.

We reached the road's turn and soon Bast was before us. It was much larger than Frell, of that much I was certain. Smoke drifted out of the chimneys of dozens of buildings. I could see candles flickering in inns and pubs all over town, and people laughing in the windows as we drew closer. Few carriages roamed the streets, but many men stood in groups along the sides, leaning against buildings while drinking and talking. What few women there were appeared red-faced and short-skirted, bosoms hanging out indecently over low-cut dresses.

"Don't worry," Gareth whispered to me as we walked past a group of particularly drunk men. "This is the bad part of town. We'll stay at an in a few blocks over."

"Good," was all I could say.

A woman in laced purple lurched forward as we passed the door of a pub and her drink spilled all down my front. She laughed manically as Gareth immediately stepped in front of me, clutching my arm and the elbow.

"Watch it," he hissed to her and the man beside her. The words were all but useless, though, since they seemed far too gone beyond comprehension.

I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered to him, "Don't worry about it. Let's just keep going."

He stiffly stood closer to me as we walked, though, and the tension only eased when we had put a good two streets between us and all of the pubs.

"Here's a good place to stay," he finally said, gesturing towards a brick two-story building with very few windows. "I called on my aunt here when she used to visit. It's nicer than most."

"Shall I-"

"Give me the money for the room and I'll pay," he said. "We'll go in together, though."

"I'll pay, I'm-"

"No," he said. "I'm sorry, but it's not customary for women here to deal with money outside the home."

"Oh," I replied, biting my lip to keep from speaking out against either the order or such an unfair custom. It might not be wisest to argue the traditions of a town to which I had just arrived.

Gareth got us a room and a servant led us to it by way of dimly lit wooden steps that creaked each time I brought my foot down upon one. The servant's voice, like the man Gareth had given the money to, was very coarse and garbled.

"Was he drunk?" I asked Gareth once the servant had left. His voice wasn't nearly as slurred as the ones at the pub street, but it was slurred nonetheless.

"I don't think so," he replied. "That's how everyone talks here. At least the common people."

"Ah," I said. "I suppose you didn't retain the accent, then."

"All that time in Frell rubbed it off," he said.

There was a moment of silence while we both took in the room. There were two small beds that seemed to have been hastily pushed together with thin maroon blankets and sheets atop them. Two lit candlesticks sat in holders on a dresser beside the beds, and the curtains looked to be made of old sheets.

Gareth stepped forward and separated the beds so that there was a gap of a few feet between them, then laid his pack down on one of them.

"Shall I leave while you change?" he asked politely.

"Into what?" I said. "I'll just sleep in this."

He sat on the edge of his bed and put his pack to the floor.

"Do you mind if I read a little?" I asked, pulling out the magic book. He wouldn't be able to recognize it.

"No," he said, pulling back the light top blanket and crawling underneath. His eyes narrowed upon seeing the spine of my book, then asked, "Have anything for me to read?"

I thought a moment, then pulled out my language dictionary and tossed it to him.

"You carry a dictionary?"

"It has several languages in it. I like tongues."

"Of course," he said, smiling slightly as he cracked it open and began to read the dictionary's introduction.

Seeing Gareth somewhat immersed, I opened my magic book. I didn't have to look far for some sign of home – a picture of Hattie writing a letter graced the first page. Opposite was the letter itself. I read, misspellings and all:

To Your Highness, the Prince Charmont:

First let me extend to you my most devoted wishes of good health for you and all of your family. You know that myself, and our country, would be desolate if any of our most esteemed royal family fell ill.

I beleeve that my first several letters to you may have been lost as I have heard no reply. I am sure that if you had received them you would have been happy to write back to such a devoted and lonely subject as myself.

I have been without much excitement in recent days. My manor has been all but desolate while we have not been able to entertain your company. Surely you will pleasur us with a visit sometime soon? I am exseadingly aware of all the royal duties of an upstanding prince like yourself, but I can only hope that you can find the time to visit my family and me. Perhaps you can console my stepfather – a longtime servant of his has recently run away and he has been most aggreeved.

I look forward to your visit, and I remain, as always, your most loyal and faithful subject,

Hattie

Her spelling has certainly improved, I thought sarcastically. And at least Char hadn't been interested enough to write her back. I reread one line: a longtime servant of his has recently run away. Could she mean me? It wouldn't be the first time she had referred to me as a servant. I felt tempted to ask Gareth's opinion on the letter. He had given me no reason not to trust him with it. Still, I shook my head of the idea and turned the page of the book.

The next dozen pages entailed the story of a dwarf, his six brothers, and young girl who came to them for refuge. I skimmed it quickly, looking for more signed from those I know. Especially Char. Despite the fact that my magic book had recently showed me an entry in his diary, I felt the familiar urge to read about him again.

To my dismay, there was nothing on Char, but on the final page my eyes lit up to see a short letter to me from Mandy.

Dear Ella,

There isn't a way to see where you are that isn't big magic, so I hope that wherever you're headed finds you safe. Your father is frantic looking for you; he seems to need the money from the marriage more that he's always let on. He sent out two men to find you. Be careful of them, Ella. I wouldn't doubt that you're smarter, but either one of them would beat you for strength.

Dame Olga's guards remain swarming about the manor, so I don't dare risk going to you yet. When you arrive somewhere safely, send brief word through Nancy. She'll pass it on to me, and I'll get to you as soon as need be.

I miss you and worry about you. You didn't take your tonic, so be careful about catching illness. I'll bring some when I see you next.

Love,

Mandy

I whispered to my book to save the letter, and, seeing that Gareth had fallen asleep with my dictionary open on his chest, blew out the candle and went to sleep.

"Finally decided to wake up, I see," Gareth said when I woke.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and squinted as the sunlight pouring in through the window shined on my face. "What time is it?"

"About nine o'clock."

"Nine?" I wrung my hands for a moment before standing and smoothing out my dress. "I didn't mean to oversleep."

"It's alright. Here." He handed me a napkin bunched together at the top to form a pouch of sorts. It warmed my hand – there was food inside. "I already ate. I'll wait while you-"

"No, I've held you up enough," I said. "I'll eat on the way."

He nodded. "Her shop isn't too far; it should only take a quarter of an hour, at most."

"That's good," I said, relieved my legs wouldn't have to withstand another arduous trek like the one they'd only recently completed.

The street to Gareth's sister's home was considerably nicer than the one we had walked on last night. It was paved in cobblestone with smooth paths on either side for pedestrians. At first, Gareth stood on my left to guard me, he said, from any mud-slinging carriages.

"I think you could use that protection more than I," I told him, and didn't listen to his protest as we switched places.

When we reached a blacksmith's shop crammed between a florist and dressmaker not long after, Gareth announced that we were there.

"They live above the shop," he said. "It's getting upstairs that will be tricky."

Gareth put a hand on the door handle and began to slowly inch it open. "Try not to look like you're sneaking," he whispered, and we began to shuffle forward, moving left towards the staircase. He had reached the first stair and was just ushering me ahead of him when –

"Where do yeh think yer going?"

We froze. A gruff-looking man with a large, hooked nose stood before us. He had unkempt black hair flecked with gray and was, perhaps, old enough to be my father. I spotted Gareth's hand trembling a bit as it held the banister, and without thinking I put my hand on top of his to calm him.

"To see my sister," he said. "Nothing more."

"Who are yeh?"

"Who are you?" Gareth returned. I looked at him, wrinkling my brow. If Gareth didn't recognize this man as his sister's husband, than who could he be?

"I live 'ere. You two don't." He elongated the vowel in 'you' almost as much as was customary of the sound in Ogrese.

"Does a lady called Aderyn of Bast live here?" he asked.

The man shook his head. "I never 'eard of 'er," he said. "I bought this shop from an Evan of Bast, though, if that's of any use to yeh."

Gareth nodded, then to me he said, "That's her husband."

A woman began to come down the stairs and began talking in the same accent as the man's, except a few octaves higher, when she got halfway to the bottom. "Did these people just come in, Trynt? Did yeh offer 'em a drink?"

"Not yet, Gladys, I was just about teh," he said sheepishly.

"Sure yeh were," she scoffed, sniffing loudly. To us, "Would you two like anything?"

I shook my head, having just eaten, and Gareth did too.

"Well, yeh must stay for a bit," she went on. "My daughter's just back from her cousin's 'ouse, I'm sure she'd be 'appy to see yeh."

"Actually, we just wanted to speak to my sister," Gareth said. "She seems to have moved out from here, though, so we'll just go look for her-"

"Nonesense," Gladys said. "You'll stay fer lunch. And dinner, if it becomes yeh."

"No, we really should be going-"

"I'll have none of it, yer staying," Gladys said, leaving the room as if to signify the argument over with.

The man – who seemed to be her husband – offered Gareth and I a sort of apologetic shrug before following her. "You two can go upstairs, my daughter Mabyn'll show yeh around."

Gareth and I looked at one another for a moment.

"Might as well, I suppose," I said, nodding towards the stairs.

Gareth nodded his head resignedly. "I suppose you're right. It doesn't seem like we can get out of this one."

A/N: I planned on skipping the endnotes for this one, but I didn't want to leave it without addressing a few questions in reviews. So I'm just going to do the normal end thing. Sorry if it's…overbearing?

Thanks again to everyone who's reading and reviewing. You guys keep me writing. :) Extra thanks for the excellent reviews from:

Areida, HpDeVoTeE, Bridget, Jeweled Rose, tayk, yo, Monkeystarz, B4U, Katt, WinnieThaPoo92, Abbeygirl06, SweetSouthernGal, marie0991, angelwings6117, Addie or Ella, moirariordan, Leigh A. Sumpter, tikigurl293, pearls and roses, Pointy Objects, beyonce-85, kungfuchick, Dulcis Caelum, Samantha, Arwen Veancawen, secludeddark, Ileana DuBaer, blackstar9, inusessy129, awaiting impatient person, Mohuyea, These Walls, queen-of-sapphires, mymagic, Miss Ginny, elemental-girl, Anne-Marie, Samwise809, Indil Elondili, fantasyfan, Gayle, Keiko Yuki, Aarzu, and LOTR-nutcase

pinkpengiun0000: Just like in the book, and oftentimes in fairy tales, many people who are about to get married hadn't even met the one they're about to be married to. The marriage arranged between Ella and Sir Giles isn't one for love (obviously), it is for economic reasons. So Sir Peter doesn't care if the relationship itself works out or not.

awaiting impatient person: When you wrote Coo coo ca choo in the reviewt, that wouldn't happen from the Beatles song "I Am The Walrus," would it? Sorry if I'm completely off, but I'm an insane Beatles obsessive and it sounds a lot like it. Hopefully that wasn't random….

Gypsy-dragon: I mentioned a few chapters back that Tristan was staying with Nancy, one of the kinder servants at Dame Olga's manor.

horse-crazy-gurl: Yes, I have decided what pairing it's going to be. I decided around chapter four, I think. I am still very interested what pairing everyone wants, though, and the ending can always change. ;)

It's looking like the story is a about two-thirds of the way done (maybe less). I may have decided on a pairing a while back, but I'd still love to hear who everyone wants Ella to end up with. :) I'll post a new chapter as soon as I can.