She felt rough hands grab her arms, and looked up disbelieving as the soldiers dragged her forward.
"She's not ready!" she heard someone say even as she struggled in their iron grip. My mother, she thought.
"Nonsense!" she heard a harsh voice say. A face loomed before hers, a man with a poorly kempt beard. "She'll be a fine soldier." He sat atop his horse in armor, sneering.
"Let me go!" she cried.
"And a real fighter too!" said the one on her right arm.
"Save your fighting for the field, sweetheart," the left one said. He pawed at her chest and she twisted away.
"Enough of this!" her mother cried out. She rushed forward and stood in their way. "Agatha's just a child," she pleaded.
"So is every one of our new recruits," the leader on the horse grinned. He gestured to the few people they had rounded up. "The law still stands, and more soldiers are dying. We need young blood if we are to win the Ogre Wars."
"Then the law is wrong," her mother said.
The leader thrust his sword point an inch away from her throat. "I'm almost tempted to skewer you, woman, if you question us again!"
"Mother, I'll be fine," Agatha called. "I'll come back. Just let me go."
The mounted soldier laughed. "Do as she says," he muttered, then gestured to the right one that was holding her. "She can ride with you," he called. They mounted their steeds, and left the village, leaving their loved ones behind, heading into Fate's embrace.
They rode through the day across rolling hills and meadowland, then stopped to make camp for the night. The nameless soldier whom she had rode with lifted her down, gently touching her feet to the ground. "Thank you," Agatha said even as he lifted his helmet off. She gasped. His bright green eyes sparkled in a handsome face. He looked a few years older than she did.
"You're welcome, though I don't know what for. It isn't a deed that needs thanking, toting children off to war. Happened to me as soon as I turned fourteen."
"Did you fight too?" she asked.
"Yeah, but it got me nowhere, although, I had the oddest feeling that there was someone watching me besides my mother and the soldiers."
"Did you ever find out?"
"No," he answered, "but it was like nothing I'd forget in a hurry."
"I wonder who it was," Agatha mused. She shivered suddenly.
"Do you feel it too?" he asked.
She nodded. "Whoever it was is here..."
"Let's go to my tent," he suggested.
"I'm not here just for the amusement of the male soldiers," she laughed.
"Yeah, well, the chief decided you need watching over, so like it or not, you're stuck with me." He grinned, a look of comic mischief on his face.
Agatha smiled for the first time since her parents had been killed. "I just hope you have a sense of respect for women," she muttered.
"Don't worry," he laughed, and wrapped a cashual arm about her shoulders, "if there's one thing I know, it's to never cross a woman's path, especially an angry one."
Agatha saw the whole camp as the soldier, who was named Gwaine, led her to his tent, which was on the camp's far side. "Thank you for the tour, Sir Gwaine," she smiled as she made a curtsy.
He bowed. "It is my pleasure, Lady Agatha."
"So you were listening," she teased as Gwaine led her into the tent. "Are you...?" she asked as she sat on the bedroll.
"Am I what, fair lady?"
"Are you a Knight of the Round Table?" she asked.
"Oh, no. Far from it, actually. But I am a knight, and I'm trying to be one."
"Then I wish you best of luck," she said.
Gwaine smiled, then ducked outside. "You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight, if you wish," he called. After she had changed, she stood outside so he could get dressed.
"Gwaine?" she called after a minute.
"Yes?" came the answer.
Agatha had heard some twigs crack, and an sudden cold feeling came upon her. "He's here," she whispered.
Gwaine came out and put a protective arm about her. "It's alright, Agatha. I'll shut the tent tonight, and stand guard while you sleep."
"But what about you?"
"I'll be alright . I'll even stand inside if it puts your mind at rest," he said softly. As he led her inside, she glanced fearfully at the dark forest that surrounded them until Gwaine pulled the tent flap shut.
The night passed sleepless for Agatha. She kept looking up, only to see Gwaine's shadow and hear him say, "All is well, my lady. You may go back to sleep."
Who could be watching us? Is he an enemy? she kept wondering. She was cold, despite a warm brazier blazing in the front of the tent.
Finally, she couldn't pretend any longer. She got off the bedroll with the blanket wrapped around her, and crouched before the brazier.
"Are you cold?" Gwaine asked.
She nodded, her flesh prickling with goosebumps. He came and sat beside her.
"This is not natural cold," he mused, fingering his sword hilt. "There is something magical at work here."
"Who do you think it is?" she asked shakily.
"I have a hunch, but I can't be sure," he answered.
"Who is it?" she pressed
Gwaine sighed and looked at her, one side of his face and dark hair in shadow. "I think it's the Dark One."
Agatha gasped, her heart beating in her chest.
"I can see you've heard of him," he said grimly.
"What would he want here?"
"More importantly, what could he want with you?" Gwaine mumbled.
"What?" Agatha asked, just as she heard a voice that was not Gwaine's speak. "Well, well, what have we here?" She whipped around with a gasp. A shadowy figure was sitting in a corner. "You've done well, Gwaine," the thing said.
"Who are you?" Agatha asked
"I am Rumplestiltskin," the figure answered, as he leaned forward. "I am the Dark One. Have you not heard of me, dearie?"
"She has," Gwaine answered boldly. He stood up and brought his sword hissing out of its scabbard. "Unless you want me to alert the camp, you will leave," he said darkly.
Rumplestiltskin laughed. "If you don't fulfill your deal, then you will be sorry, dearie. No one breaks a deal with me, and you know exactly what I came here for." He stood and startrd toward them.
"How do I know you won't hurt her?" Gwaine asked.
"I always keep my word," he emphasized with a flourish. "The Round Table awaits."
"Gwaine," Agatha stood, "why?"
"I'm sorry," Gwaine answered, then left. She saw a tear trickling down his cheek.
"What do you want?" she asked, turning to face him.
He gave a wicked grin, which looked ghastly in the firelight. "I simply want my end of the bargain," the Dark One smiled, walking slowly around her. "And it seems I got something far more precious." He reached out his hands (if one could call them so) and caressed her cheeks, cackling as she shuddered. She got the uncomfortable feeling that he could see right through to her soul. "But I'm willing to give you one more year." He snapped his fingers, and a funnel of red smoke enveloped them.
When it cleared, Agatha was standing in front of her cottage. She looked around, frightened. "Gwaine?" she called out. When there was no answer, she dashed into the cottage and shut the door.