Lost and Found

Ever since she had read Ben's story, there had only been one question that had been on Milena's mind; where was William?

During the few weeks that had followed her birthday, an enquiry had been made as to the records of all prisoners kept within the city. The only thing Ben had known was certain, and that was the city where William had been taken, but nothing more.

Unfortunately, there were three prisons within Bowerstone's walls, not including the dungeons beneath the castle, and all of which kept their files in conditions that could not have been called appropriate for any kind of paper. These dank, moist storage rooms invited the worst kinds of mould and fungus which crept into the pages and destroyed any records it could get its fingers on. It didn't help that there wasn't any particular order to them.

Whenever she got a spare moment, Milena would look through the piles of rotting pulp that had been placed on her desk, trying to decipher the names scrawled in the boxes that had faded away on the parchment.

It had been a long week. Re-opening the Brightwall Academy had gone well with both the locals and the general populace, though there were a few nobles who were disgusted with the thought of sharing the halls with 'commoners'. Protecting the lake in Millfields had gone down well with everyone though, with the exception of Hobson of course, but the treasury remained full, despite his moans.

The worst part had probably been chasing after the damned balverine statue. She had visited Silverpines before, but it had not been infested by the beasts that had haunted its borders, nor had any of the locals become the leader of the pack, thirsting for blood and revenge.

Luckily, no one had been seriously hurt, and the pack had been taken down. The statue now stood in someone's home on display while the Treasury was a further five hundred thousand coins heavier, but the mysterious Finn brother remained elusive.

Today, that was going to change.

It had been yet another gruelling day in the smithy, it was the middle of the week, and Milena was soaking wet from the rain. A bath was a necessity, otherwise she ran the risk of pneumonia, but luckily there was already a steaming hot tub waiting for her in her quarters, her servants predicting the state she would be in.

Stripping herself of her clothes, she lowered herself into the water, sighing as she felt the familiar tingle of pins and needles as her extremities went numb. She stayed in there for a lot longer than she should have, letting her skin wrinkle, but when she finally removed herself from the tub, she went straight to her desk.

Names passed over her tongue like the wind through the trees; Thompson, Hammersmith, Ferry… the list went on and on, each new name landing in a new pile on the floor.

"Jefferson, Fredrick A. Imprisoned for theft. Punishment, three years," she said, putting yet another piece of worthless information away.

Picking up another, she frowned, sitting up. "Name; Finn, William J. Imprisoned for attempting to enforce an illegal con game in the presence of an officer. Punishment…"

Her eyes widened as she read on, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

She had to tell Ben.

"-so we should be getting everything in the next few months."

"That's great news sir!" the Lieutenant replies, smiling, "That way, we'll be able to train them efficiently."

Ben nodded, "Make sure the men know. It might be able to stop them fighting so muck."

"Yes sir," he replied and stepped out of the tent, the flap closing behind him.

Sighing, the Major collapsed onto his bed and covered his eyes with his hands. His day had been full, and he had only just returned from his travels, so he was sore from the journey. He had not been so lucky as to dodge the rain, but he dried himself off as much as he could with a spare piece of cloth.

When he heard the flap of his tent open again, he groaned.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until morning."

"No," came the reply, "I don't think it can."

As soon as he saw the intruder through his fingers, he sat bolt upright, "Milena!"

The Queen gave him a sullen smile. What could possibly have affected her so?

"Sit… Sit down, please," he said, moving his feet from the straw filled mattress. As she sat down, she looked at him again, eyes full of pity. "What is it?"

"I um…" she paused, fiddling with her cloak, "When I read your… history, I uh…" she swallowed, "I wanted to know what had happened to your brother. William."

Ben frowned, "I don't…"

"The prisons in this city, they have records of the criminals they have," she pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket, "It took me a while but…"

He let his eyes follow her fingers as she passed the sheet to him.

Once it was in his hands, he found he couldn't read it.

This piece of paper held the answer to the question that had been on his tongue for over a decade; was he the last of his family? But he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer any more.

For years, he had been living on a small hope that his brother was only lost, but if he read this and he was dead… he didn't know what he would do.

"Ben?"

Taking a deep breath, he finally looked at the page.

"Name; Finn, William J. Imprisoned for attempting to enforce an illegal con game in the presence of an officer. Punishment… ten years," he looked up at her, "So, he's out?"

For a moment she didn't say anything, but then she looked at the paper again, "Keep reading."

"Notes; One year in – has a minor wound on his left leg from trying to escape. One year, six months; wound has been infected. It is too late to…" he shook his head, "No."

"I am so sorry, Ben."

The Major's eyes began to fill with tears, "He can't be… He wouldn't-"

He had to get out. This tent was too small. It was choking him.

Running from the shelter, he dodged between the fires and soldiers, ignoring their concerned cries, and headed towards the lake. Suddenly, his boots slipped on the wet grass, and he fell, landing heavily on his forearms. Pain began to throb through his arms, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was feeling inside.

His hopes had been dashed, his dreams destroyed, with those few words written on that small piece of parchment. Because of those words, he knew he was never going to see his brother again, all because he was too stupid to wait.

Ben heard voices behind him, but he didn't care. His heart was broken, and it felt like it would never be whole again.

Tears began to stream down his cheeks, and his arms shook from the desperation he felt.

As they dripped down his face, he felt something else touch his skin. A familiar sensation that sent sparks of heat through him. Looking up, he found his princess looking at him, sympathy showing in her eyes as she smiled.

Pulling her close, he held her, letting himself weep into her shoulder as her fingers wove themselves through his hair.

She had stayed with him that night, remaining by his side. She was the shoulder to cry on, the one who protected him from the nightmares that plagued him, and made sure that he wasn't disturbed.

It was a long night.

By the time morning came, Ben had scarcely slept more than a few hours, and Milena, even less, but the sun brought the end of the darkness, and the beginning of a new dawn.

She was sat on the bed next to the Major, who was staring into nothingness. He had no more tears left to cry.

He sighed, "I'm sorry you had to see me like this."

Putting a hand on his arm, Milena drew his attention to her, "Nonsense. You needed someone."

"But it didn't have to be you."

She let her lips curl up into a small smile and moved her hand into his, "Yes it did."

"But why?"

"Because I care for you, Ben. I care for you enough to know that you needed to know the end to your brother's story."

He nodded and looked down at his lap, smirking. "An infection," he laughed, "Damned stubborn kid, never could sit still. Had to go and try to escape."

Milena could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke, and she felt her heart melt. If only she could do something to ease his suffering…

"I wish I could have seen him again."

They remained silent for a few moments as she contemplated what to say.

"What was he like?" she finally asked, looking down into her hands that were now crossed in her lap.

"What?"

"You… You wrote about him, in your present, but you didn't write about him."

Ben looked quizzically at her, showing he didn't understand.

"You were very vague. I know he was a thief, I know he was the second eldest, and I know he was trying to pull some sort of con on an officer… but nothing else," she turned to face him, looking deep into his eyes, "It was almost as if it wasn't you who'd written it. Like I was reading someone else's words… only with your vocabulary."

He smiled at her last comment, "I was… kind of hoping you wouldn't notice."

"It was hard not to," Milena stated, "Walter said that you never went into any great detail with your men about it either. Not even him or…" She left her sentence unfinished when the man before her cringed. As much as she knew it hurt him, Major Swift was bound to come up at some point.

"So, you showed it to him then."

She blinked. "No. I just asked him what he knew about you." She smiled at the memory of the knight sat at his desk, "It was a very long, though vague tale. Like your manuscript."

Ben looked down at his feet momentarily, nodding. He took a deep breath and finally turned back, his eyes showing the pain he was feeling, but also the softness of acceptance.

"What would you like to know?"

"William was about five years older than me. The last time I saw him, he was… about an inch taller than me, though he was always very thin. Mind you, we all were considering what we could afford. His hair was a little darker than mine, and his eyes were brown, like my mother's. I took after my father, you see. He was the one with blond hair and blue eyes… though I could never forgive him for that moustache.

"The first thing I can remember about him, is that he carried me home one day after I'd fallen over and grazed my knee on the hill next to Gunk… where we lived. Well, you'd know that of course. I think I was three years old. He had freckles when he was a kid, and I remember I tried to wipe them off because I thought they were drops of muddy water.

"Anyway, after that happened, I spent a few years where I'd just follow him around, copy everything he did. My parents thought it was cute at first, but then, when they realised what he and my other brothers did, they didn't think it was such a good idea. It didn't stop me trying though. It eventually got to a stage where I was able to escape their means of keeping me away from my brothers; namely keeping me in my room, so, as I said in my present, they ended up using my innocent attempts to earn money for their own less than honest gains.

"Unlike Quentin and Jason though, he always came up to me after and apologised, telling me not to do the things they were doing. I suppose he was almost like a conscience in that aspect. He also taught me to read. I went to school and everything, but I found reading a little difficult at the start, so he helped me out. I don't think I ever thanked him for that. In fact, I distinctly remember throwing one of the books he gave me at his head at one point!

"Over the years, we became close. He spent the most time with me, and, or so I was told, it was his idea to get me the pellet gun. Out of all of us he was probably the smartest, but not book smart. He was almost always the one with the 'plan', and he knew the ins and outs of the market place and the people who went there. He was never caught, but that was probably because he was only working on small cons and could run fast. By the time he was seventeen though, he was looking at bigger things.

"That's probably why he ended up getting caught. Even though he was smart, Quentin wasn't, and without Jason there to help make decisions, their cons became more and more reckless… which is probably how he ended up getting caught in the first place.

"The last time I remember seeing him was when he was saying goodbye, saying he had 'a good feeling about this one'. I never saw him again.

"And you know the rest. Quentin was killed about a year later, my mother succumbed to grief within the next few months, and I ended up having to take care of my father and his shop for the next few years while he tried to get drunk as much as possible before he died when I was seventeen. But I think, out of all the losses, Will's will be the hardest to bear."

AN - Yes, I know it's been a little longer than usual, but I suffered a major hit of writer's block (and the discovery of POTO... SO AWESOME!), so I think I'm going to pace myself a little more.

I hope you guys liked this chapter. I wasn't too sure if it would fit, but I think it does, though I can't believe I did that to Ben...

I haven't started the next chapter just yet, but I'm hoping I'll be able to update next week (yes, it will be a weekly update from this point on... hopefully)

Once again, and a belated;

Until next time!