Ever After

Disclaimer: The only things I own is whatever you find in my shoe-boxed sized bedroom (in other words, nothing of any importance). Story-wise, I only own… the…uh, well I did write the story… I just borrowed some plot work from Ever After and the characters from Gilmore Girls. Plus invented others.

"Desire, Defy, Escape."

The first thing that sprung to Rory's mind was: I do not; in any shape or form, agree with what's happening. The second thing was I must be out of my mind to allow William to do this to me, and the third thing was – well, she didn't have any more time to think when William began to approach her with face paint.

"William Cassard, if you take one more step towards me with that thing, I shall get the knife hiding in my clothes and stab you with it." William stopped, several feet away from her, and looked at her with an exasperated expression on his face.

"Royal ladies wear face paint. If you expect to escape Paris as a servant, well, let me tell you: it's not going to happen. If you don't leave looking exactly like a royal lady, well, somebody is going to get suspicious and then you'll find yourself in the stocks for four bloody days for dressing above your station!" Rory rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, before finally agreeing to allow him to cover her face in a layer of thick, heavy make-up.

"Where are Sarah, Elizabeth and Jacinta?" Rory inquired once William had finished. He leaned out the window and looked down into the crowded streets, rolling his eyes at Rory's nervousness but at the same time understanding her fear.

"Jacinta is talking to a group of royal, up-tight ladies and Elizabeth is what looks like being coerced into looking at clothes, accessories etc," he informed her, relieving her of her worry. "If you leave now, you should be able to get away with not being seen by them, although you might cause some interesting rumours to be spread by those annoying town gossips," he added with a grin. Rory let out a small laugh at his comment, but it quickly faded when William continued to speak.

"Why are you running away, anyway?" Rory shook her head and pressed her lips together, something, she realised, that Sarah did often. Especially when she was displeased with Rory's work. Perhaps I have learnt more from her than I actually realised, she thought, quite startled by the idea. "I'm your best friend, Rory, and have been for quite a number of years. What – are we going on about sixteen years?" he questioned. Rory answered his question only with a sigh, and continued to concentrate on the crowded streets below, intent on ignoring his question.

"Rory," he said, his voice quiet. And that was all it took for Rory to break down. William wasn't sure what had got Rory so riled up that she wanted to leave Paris –for good – but he was certain that it was nothing good, and it had something to do with her stepmother who seemed to have made it her goal in life to make Rory's as miserable and worthless as possible.

"What did she do this time? Hot oil or the rack?" he said, trying to make a joke out of Rory's current situation. Rory tried to plaster a fake smile across her face, but found that it was too much effort for her muscles to do so, and the smile turned into a slight frown.

"I'm sorry," William apologised, misreading into her response to his attempt at humour.

"No, no," Rory quickly dismissed any conclusions that she was angry with him. "It's just it's been so long since somebody cared about me, I forgot what it was like. It's been thirteen years since somebody worried about me, or payed me any attention – attention that didn't mean demanding where breakfast was, anyway," she said with a small, sarcastic laugh. William shook his head.

"People still care about you, Rory. It's just that you've been so busy trying to run your life and Sarah's life and Elizabeth and Jacinta's lives that you've forgotten about what it's like to be cared for." Rory let out a sigh.

"Do you really want to know what happened? It's not an exemplary Olsen-Hayden family scene, just a little pre-warning," Rory explained, a sad look in her eyes.

"I really want to know," William replied. "I'm your best friend, I have a right to know."

"Well…"

Jacinta and Elizabeth trailed behind their mother, tired of listening to her rant and rave like she had been doing for the last twenty minutes or so, as they walked along the busy, crowded streets of Paris. They pushed their way through a particularly dense area of people, before finally catching up to her.

"Honestly, the nerve of her!" Sarah muttered under her breath. "Common or competition? Isn't it obvious which one bothers me more? For she certainly isn't competition for Elizabeth. Elizabeth is simply everything that that little street urchin isn't!" A small scowl crossed Jacinta's features as she listened to the way that her mother whinged about Rory. "She is just trying to bring this good family name to ruin, and bring extreme embarrassment to this family! Well I'm sorry to spoil the little wretch's plans-" here, she snorted to show her contempt for the idea of feeling sorry for Lorelei Hayden, of all people, "- but it simply isn't going to work. I will triumph over her if it's the last thing I do!"

Wonderful, Jacinta thought a little sarcastically. Mother scorns the idea of the Prince being in love with Rory, and she's sworn that she is going to become the tiny little problem of him not being in love with Elizabeth! She tuned in just in time to hear the words --

"You'll talk to her about family honour, won't you darling?" Jacinta sighed at her mother's rhetorical question. You could simply not say no to Sarah Olsen, and Sarah Olsen happened to know it. She just asked you a question simply to point out later that she had asked you and you had agreed to it, if any doubts were raised at a later point.

"Uh. Of course, Mother. I'd be happy to," Jacinta said, trying to conceal all traces of sarcasm in her voice. A young lady is never sarcastic; she is polite at all times, her mother's 'teacher voice' floated into her head.

"That's my darling little girl," Sarah replied, opening the door to their carriage. "Come along girls, it's home time." Why do I feel like something suspiciously similar to a dog? Jacinta wondered as she climbed into the carriage after her mother.

"And because Sarah felt I stood in the way of her daughter becoming royalty, she decided to use the whip on me, so I would know that if, in future, the Prince just so happened to talk to me, I am not, under any circumstances, to… ruin her chances by letting anything slip," Rory finished, knowing that some parts of her story made absolutely no sense. William couldn't help but feel horrified at what he'd just heard.

"No wonder you want to leave Paris – if it means getting as far away as possible from the Baroness, it's all you can do."

"I won't be able to feel safe until I am out of Paris," Rory told him, clutching to the front of his shirt, but she stepped away when they heard a knock on the door. William crossed the room in two bounds and opened it, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw the Crown Prince of France standing in his door way.

"Uh, can I help you?" he asked, a little nervous of the controversial figure leaning against the doorframe.

"I'm looking for Lorelei Hayden," he replied a little shortly. "And I believe that she is friends with you," he continued, "so I would appreciate it if you could tell me where she is." Rory looked up in terror when she heard Tristan voice, and began to back slowly away towards the curtain where she had been getting changed only hours ago.

"Well, she is here, but I don't think that it is a very good idea for you to be talking to her," William half snapped.

"And, why would that be?" William cursed the Prince's lazy drawl, but felt compelled to answer the query.

"Because of your incomplete engagement agreements with the Baroness' daughter, Elizabeth Olsen."

"Well, despite my 'incomplete engagement agreements,' as you prefer to put it, I need to speak with Lorelei, so if you would just let me in for a minute or so, I can talk to her and then be gone," Tristan promised. Reluctantly, William let him in to the small one-roomed apartment where he lived. "Thankyou," Tristan said, surveying the room. "Where did you say she was?"

"Hiding from you behind the curtain," William commented dryly, spotting a pair of shoes at the bottom of the curtain that didn't quite reach the floor. Rory shot waves of hatred and irritation towards William, before stepping out from behind the curtain.

"All done," she smiled at William. She feigned surprise when she saw Tristan standing next to him. "What are you doing here?" Tristan raised an eyebrow at her.

"You know why," he said simply.

"No, actually, I don't," Rory replied. "But, by all means, enlighten me, if you will." For the first time, Tristan took in what she was wearing.

"You do realise you could get four days in the stocks for dressing above you station?" he asked her incredulously.

"I believe that's not what you came all the way from Castle Hartford to tell me, but, yes, I do realise that," Rory said coolly.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Tristan couldn't help but ask.

"I'm leaving Paris, to let you and my step-sister marry in peace," Rory replied quickly. "Now, if you don't mind…" she stopped mid-sentence when he grabbed her arm.

"Stay with me," he offered. "For whatever reason, stay with me. And I promise I will help you out of whatever situation you're in." Rory knew that he could help her, but she was reluctant to accept his help. "I promise," he repeated. Rory looked at him for a moment, before nodding.

"OK. I'll come with you," she whispered.

"Where is that girl?" Sarah muttered, walking quickly along the corridors of the manor, angry with her stepdaughter, and not for the first time this week, she wondered how she managed to get conned into playing mother for the little ingrate. She passed Elizabeth's room, and looked in for a moment, watching her daughter as she lazily read a book – one that that little shit Rory had been reading last night, Sarah realised. Utopia. The last book that Christopher had ever bought back for her. She shook her head and continued on her way to the kitchens, before halting again outside the lounge room, where Jacinta was dancing with an imaginary partner. I have no idea how I managed to give birth to somebody as psychotic and strange as that child, Sarah thought, marvelling at how different her two daughters were. She disappeared down the stairs to the kitchens, but much to her dismay, she only found Jane and Emilia there.

"Jane. Emilia. Where is my stepdaughter?" she questioned, hands on hips, in the most superior voice she could muster. The two older women shrugged in reply, and went back to rolling out dough and making orange juice. "I know you know where she is, now tell me!" she shouted, becoming impatient.

"We haven't seen her since this morning, my lady," Emilia responded in a calm voice, concentrating on rolling the dough out flat. "Told us she be out picking wild flowers to place around the house, and she'd be back by lunchtime. However, this is not the case, as you can see."

"When you see her, you bring her straight to me," Sarah instructed. "I will not have my staff becoming lazy and not working for their pay."

"But, my lady-" Jane started, but her protest fell on deaf ears. She sighed, and poured out what orange juice she had made into a clean glass jug. She waited until she was absolutely certain that Sarah was out of earshot before talking to Emilia. " Emilia," she said a little tentatively. "You don't really know where Rory is?" Emilia looked at her, a little mischievous spark in her eye.

"Of course I do!" Emilia replied with a grin. "You don't really think that she is out picking wildflowers, do you?"

"I didn't think that it was very much like Rory to be out picking wildflowers," Jane said quietly.

"She left, and she's going to return for us later. She promised that she'd come back and fetch us from this horror house."

"Well, I just hope she knows what she does, crossing Sarah Olsen," Jane replied with a sigh, getting back to work.