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

A/N: So umm. About that update in June. I must have gotten it confused with January. I mean. Wait. It's February. : Oops.

Thanks for throwing things at me, though, guys. It's made me get my act together and start writing this story again. Only took a little longer than I'd originally anticipated. ;)

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 Eleven: One Of These Things

"But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way."
- Jane Austen
Things were different between Gareth and me. We walked a little farther apart, spoke a little less, were careful not to touch each other. I tried feebly to bridge the gap, but I feared that something had happened that would keep us from ever being the same way again.

He cleared his throat. "Er. Here we are."

His sister's house was considerably larger than Gladys's. It was constructed in the traditional style of Bast: white stucco with brown wooden shutters and plating, and a heavily thatched roof. But this place far outnumbered the buildings directly surrounding it, and was considerably more menacing. The others had flowers pleasantly accenting the windows and stuck in the eves, but this one had only naked weeds poking about searching for sunlight in the shadow of the building.

"Shall I knock?" I asked.

Gareth's eyes barely flickered over towards me as he stood straight and smoothed out his shirt. Timidly, I reached out and brushed off a speck of straw that clung to his back.

"Thank you," he murmured, still not looking at me. I felt a pang in my chest and tried not to block it out of my mind as Gareth rapped thrice on the massive door.

A small girl in a sooty apron and cap came to let us in. "Who are you?" she asked, wide-eyed. She held a broom behind her back and seemed to regret her outspokenness upon first meeting us, now looking down at her feet and hunching her shoulders as she waited for a response.

"I'm Gareth," he said gently, squatting down to her level. "And who are you?"

"I'm the maid!" she piped.

"You are, are you?" He grinned. "That's a big job for such a small girl, isn't it?"

She blushed and brought her broom out in front to hide her face. "Well," she admitted bashfully. "My mum's the real maid, yeh see."

"Oh, I see," said Gareth. "Well, do you think you could take us to meet Aderyn of Bast?"

"No need, I'm here," said a stout woman in a slightly-less-sooty apron. She shooed the little girl away and crossed her arms. "Making friends already, I see."

"Hello, Aderyn," Gareth said with a crooked smile.

"Hello, Gareth," she said with a tired sigh. "What would you like? Money? Food? Shelter? Any other necessities I haven't covered?"

"All of the above, actually," he said cheerfully. "But mostly I just want to see you."

She snorted. "If you'd wanted to see me, you could have made time to stop by when I was in Frell only a few months ago."

Gareth shifted a bit but maintained his smile. "I was indisposed at the time. You're not going to hold that against me, are you?"

"I've got a dozen bronze KJs to spare. You can stay on for dinner, and one night if you'll sleep in the kitchen. You're to be gone at the crack of dawn, you here?" Aderyn said.

"Thanks, sis," he said cheekily, and she rolled her eyes and turned to go back into the kitchen. "But I must ask – why do want us gone at dawn? I would have thought-"

"You don't think, Gareth. I know that well enough. But if you must know, I want you gone before Evan returns home. He'll be even less pleased to see you than I am."

"You can't-"

"We eat in one hour. Stay outside 'til then," she snapped, and left.

We both stood stock-still for a moment as I absorbed what had just gone on and Gareth took inventory of the room.

"We'd better do as she tells us," I finally said.

"Alright then," he said with a shrug, and we walked back out the way we came.

I sat down on the front stoop and played aimlessly with the hem of my skirt until Gareth eventually joined me.

I felt a tugging at me to talk to him about what had happened; it still felt unresolved and I could hardly bear watching him avoid eye contact with me. I pulled at his shirtsleeve with full intention of speaking. He turned to face me, our noses accidentally touching. I laughed uneasily and looked down at the cobbled street, wishing the awkwardness away. I wanted our easy friendship back, but the kiss still stood between us.

"Listen. Ella," he said, swallowing. He reached out gently, cautiously, and turned my chin to face him so that our eyes met. He searched my face for a long moment before dropping his hand. He gave me a sideways grin and went on. "I don't like this any more than I think you do."

I nodded empathetically, trying to will myself to speak. But I had never been good with such conversations. "I-" I began.

"Hush. Let me talk first." I let my shoulders relax, thankful, for once, of a command.

"I don't want things to be different between us. We – we" -- his voice quaked a little -- "we have a kiss. That doesn't – it doesn't mean that things have to be different."

I nodded again, my mouth glued shut until he finished.

"And maybe I, you know, fancy myself rather in love with you," he gulped, and my heart lurched. My mouth must have opened because he said, "No, no, let me get this out." Little did he know. "But I'm going to do my best to forget that. It was stupid. I'm stupid. A Lady and a shoemaker…well that's the most asinine thing I've ever heard. Of course it wouldn't – I wouldn't – oh, dammit Ella, just say something."

Now that I could, I found myself quite unable to speak. A part of me wanted to run, keep me from saying something to break his heart or break our friendship even more. A part of me wanted to shout at him; how could he be so stupid as to love me? A part of me wanted to shout at myself; what had I ever done to make him love me, and why couldn't I take it back? And a part of me, a very small part, wanted to kiss him and lie and tell him I loved him too, just so he wouldn't hurt anymore. But most of me couldn't get Char out of my head. And my heart.

There was nothing else to it. The only way I could be fair to him would be to tell him about Char. He deserved to know, after all we'd been through. I had two secrets; he should know at least this one. I took a deep breath and began.

"Gareth," I choked out. "There's something you should know."

"You're in love with someone else," he said for me.

"I, well, yes," I said, caught off-guard by his completion of my thought. "How did you-"

"I know you well enough by now, I should think," he said ruefully. "I can't for the life of my think of who the lucky lad is. He must be a prince, though, to beat me out, eh?" he joked.

I forced a cough. "Actually. Well. He is."

"He is what?"

"A prince," I said. "I'm in love with a prince." It sounded even more foolish when I said it out loud.

He stared at me, blank-eyed, for a good minute before saying, "What?"

I swallowed. "I'm in love with Prince Char. Charmont, that is."

He raised his eyebrows, then promptly burst out into laughter.

"Hey!" I said indignantly, hitting him with reprove in the arm. "It's not funny!"

"No," he got out between peals of laughter. "It's funny."

A small grin crept onto my face. "Well, I suppose a little."

His laughter was contagious enough that it took no time at all for us both to be enveloped in a fit of laughter, far more than the situation warranted, but it was good to laugh. Most of all, it was good to be laughing with him.

Eventually Gareth straightened and stood up. He held out his arm to me to take and I slipped my hand through it. "So," he said. "He's good-looking, I hope."

I hit him lightly again and said, "Not as handsome as you, of course," I joked, "But handsome enough."

"Well, no one's quite as handsome as I," he said, jutting out his chest.

I smiled, leaning against his shoulder as we walked.

"I know you're not one of those foolish girls who loves a prince after seeing him only once at a ball," Gareth said. "Tell me, then. How did you come to be in such a state of admiration for your esteemed leader?"

My chest constricted slightly, but I had grown so used to it that I barely noticed. "we met at my mother's funeral," I said solemnly.

"Ah. Romantic."

"He got me a centaur," I said, smiling broadly at the thought of Apple and of Char capturing him for me. "And we explored the old castle, and went to the menagerie, and captured a dozen ogres."

"In that order?"

"Not quite." I paused, thinking back. "We exchanged letters for months when he was away. And he told me – he told me he-" My throat contracted and I found myself unable to go on. The elation of speaking of all the things we'd done was quickly fading. Perhaps talking so much about him was too much for my heart to take.

I realized then that we'd stopped walking and that Gareth's eyes were boring through mine.

"Told you he loved you?" Gareth said blandly.

I looked down. "Yes," I said.

"Well then," said Gareth, urging me on down the road. "Sounds like the perfect love story, doesn't it?"

"Besides the happily ever after," I murmured, now shuffling along slower than a snail. I wanted desperately to turn away from this conversation, I wasn't ready for it, I couldn't talk about Char, not now, not ever, not with Gareth.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I – I can't say," I said pathetically, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't order me to tell him. Gareth rarely ordered that I do anything, but what would I do if he did?

"Alright," he said, quietly accepting my inability to answer.

We woke the next morning, warmed by the kitchen fire in Aderyn's house and being hit with very little pity by a woman with a large broomstick.

"I told you to be own at dawn, Gareth!" Aderyn screeched. "I'll not have more problems with Evan, you here? Get out, out, I say!"

"Give us a minute, will you?" Gareth said, getting up sleepily and rubbing his backside gingerly where his sister had his him.

"I'm going to fetch some slop for the pig, and if you aren't a block away by the time I get back…"

"I know, I know, we'll be tarred and feathered and run out of Bast for all to see," Gareth said. He reached down to help me up and we stood together in his sister's kitchen, waiting for the sleep to escape our eyes.

"That was interesting," he said.

"Quite," I returned.

"We'd better go," he said. "I've no desire to see that oaf of a brother-in-law of mine."

Gareth grabbed two rolls that sat atop the counter and tossed one to me.

"Won't she be angry you took them?"

He shrugged. "She won't miss them. Let's go."

He loped out the back door just as Aderyn's feet could be heard storming back into the kitchen.

"Gareth, you ass! Those rolls were for my-" I caught, until her voice was drowned out Gareth's and my laughter.

"Endearing woman, your sister," I said with a grin.

"You're just lucky you didn't have to see her as child," he said. "She was even more sour back then."

I giggled appreciatively and then my eyes widened and I stopped short. "What…" I started, but ended in my mouth lying agape as I stared out into the road ahead of me.

Down the road, the fanfare blasted and it seemed as though all of Bast was rushing out into the streets to cheer. There was a large purple carriage with gold trappings and half a dozen footmen being followed by at least twenty riders. I recognized a few of them as knights from when I'd spoken to the ogres in the forest. The carriage was coming closer and closer, it could only be –

"Come on," Gareth whispered into my ear, and took my arm as I followed him numbly into the nearest shop. He squeezed my hand to comfort me but I could find no reassurance in it.

Char was here.

Three days early, and he had arrived in Bast, trumpets blaring and everyone embracing his visit. Except me. But oh, how I longed to be in his arms.

"You're white as a ghost," Gareth murmured to me.

"We're in a sweet shop," I said, my voice sounding unfamiliar even to me. "Why are we in a sweet shop?"

"You didn't look quite in the proper condition for meeting your prince," he said contritely. "Are you alright, Ella?"

"I-I don't know," I stuttered, thinking only of if I dared to look out the shop window. The cries of the crowd were getting ever louder, and I could sense the beginning of his train starting to approach.

I felt myself rocking back and forth, fighting the impulsive urge to run out into the streets and jump onto the carriage and beg him to forgive me. Gareth's arm was around my shoulder but I hardly noticed, I could think of nothing but Char and how I missed him and loved him and –

"The prince is here! He's coming in!" cried the sweet shop owner in delight.

Gareth then dragged my hardly-functioning body towards a small table in the corner and I ducked down into the crevice in the walls and begged that the table and chairs would be enough to hide my panic-stricken face.

"Good day, your highness!" exclaimed the sweet shop owner, coming over to Char with a large tray of candies. "Take your pick, please, Prince Charmont, whatever you'd like!"

Char smiled and I felt my insides melt. It had been so long since I'd seen him smile. I'd forgotten how wonderful it was.

"I'll have them all," he said cheerfully. "And pay you double for it."

He was exceedingly happy about something, that much was certain. I wished with all my heart that it wasn't about the prospect of seeing me, well, Lela, that is. Then I cursed myself for being so narcissistic. Of course he wouldn't be thinking of me. Lela. Oh, I am truly hopeless.

Char glanced about the shop and – to my utmost horror – his eyes handed on our table in the corner.

"My lady?" he said curiously, coming over. I could feel his eyes on me, or rather, the very top of my head that poked out from over the table. "Might I be of, er, assistance?"

I hit Gareth hard in the shins under the table with my balled fists and he sprung into action. "Your majesty! My lady, here, has just…has just-"

"Dropped something!" I piped in a voice much higher than my own. I was speaking to Char! I forgot the danger of the situation and for a lovely moment I was floating on air.

"Please, allow me to help you," said Char. He was much too good to be allowed, I decided. If only he could suspend his goodness for just a moment and refuse to assist me in my search for, well, nothing.

"No, no, Ch – your majesty," I finished lamely.

"Yes, please, that's not necessary," Gareth said, dropping to his knees at once and feigned searching, as well as successfully blocking my figure from Char's view.

We spent a long minute awkwardly scanning the ground, until Char made an impossible reach around Gareth and touched my arm lightly – a thousand butterflies erupted in my stomach – and said, "Is this is, my lady?"

Gareth must have turned around and examined it, because he said, "A lovely bead, your majesty. But, er, not what we're looking for."

"What is it that you are looking for then?" he said, and I could hear the playful smile on his face. I did not think myself capable of speech, so I waited for Gareth to take the cue.

"Please, your majesty, I beg you to let us continue the search on our own." Gareth said. I breathed a sigh of relief at his self-assured voice.

"Nonsense, I insist-"

"Char…mont," I said. I was such a fool! I mustn't confuse his name again or he would surely order me up. "Prince. Your highness, I don't-"

He was grinning again, I could tell. Gareth murmured something to him, and Char burst promptly into laughter. My heart swelled in my chest to hear it.

"Very well, then," he said when he had calmed. "I must, at least, inform you that there shall be a ball held, tomorrow night, in the Great Hall. I shall expect to meet you both properly there."

I held my breath until he was gone.

"You can get up now, you know," said Gareth.

I rose on unsteady legs and swallowed.

"A-a ball?" I said, my voice quavering something awful.

Gareth rolled his eyes. "And I had thought you different from other girls. But no, you are all the same, only living to pass the time from one ball to the next."

"But," I said, ignoring Gareth. "What shall I wear?"

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, and for sticking with me through my sparse updates. Much appreciated. :)

There were a ton of questions in the last set of review, so I'm just going to pick three at random to answer this time around.

I have to ask, though; was this based on the movie? – Sierra Falls

Nope. I've seen the movie, and loved it, but it's got nothing on the book (which I've read something like twenty times). So this is all based off the book, which you should definitely read if you haven't already.

Technically, Ella can just get anyone to issue a command for a previous one to be reversed. Did you change that for the purpose of your story? – Atlantis Forester

Well, in the book (correct me if I'm wrong, which I very well could be) that particular loophole isn't used for the big things. I mean, there's the thing with eating cake at the beginning. I've always thought, couldn't someone just order Ella never to take heed of any order ever again? Or something along those lines. And then the curse would be as good as lifted. But stuff like that is never used. The whole "reversal of command" is also difficult without explaining the curse to anyone else, which she's been commanded not to do. But anyway, I have plans for the reversal thing to come into play later on.

Will Areida ever come into the picture as a main character? – Scyco Sphinx

I never had plans for her to have a huge part, but there will definitely be some Areida before this story is over.

Next Update: Let's shoot for by the end of April? Unless enough things are thrown at me to get me writing.