A/N: To my guest reviewers, thank you! Your words are kind, and I so appreciate them! And SassySwan, your review made me crack up. I see we read with the same brain train ;)
To those who had been worried I'd abandoned the story - nope! I am stubborn and it will be finished one way or another! There is some possibility it may get shortened, depending on the interest level (the outline calls for it to be somewhat of an epic at the rate I'm going, yikes!) and it will be slow going, but I will see it through to a conclusion!
(Does it help if I beg forgiveness for the slow rate of updates by providing the excuse that I am plugging away at a plot bunny that took hold some time and won't let go? That one will likely end up complete before I start publishing it, since the plot is a little more intricate and I don't want to screw it up! I'm about 60k in, so it's well underway...)
Anyways. Our dear children are continuing their runaway adventure... Perhaps we shall see what sort of scrape they've gotten themselves into this time!
-DSB
"Leaving without saying goodbye?"
The duo froze, looking back in the direction the voice had come from. There they found a man, perhaps twice their age, dressed in a dingy tunic. His skin was weathered, with chapped cheeks and calloused hands, and his hair fell somewhere between windswept and unkempt. Next to him stood a younger man, perhaps a few years their junior, paused in his duties to observe the spectacle he was sure was about to unfold.
"I just-"
"We-"
The pair started & stopped their excuses in tandem, moving to meet each others' gazes with mounting panic in their eyes.
Under silent agreement, Bae began offering an excuse. "We're so sorry sir, we've been traveling to visit my uncle - he's fallen ill - we should have arrived by nightfall yesterday but I believe we took a wrong turn back at Meadowton and-"
"Having no money for an inn, you slept in my hayloft?"
"Indeed," Bae said, bowing his head in shame. "Please accept my apologies."
The man stared him down for a long moment, leaving Bae to wonder what sort of fate may befall them. Slowly, slowly, he inched in front of Emma, hoping to protect her from any bout of temper the man might burst into. He would have told her to run if he'd thought it might do any good. Instead, he found that her hand had worked its way into his - as if she could read his mind - and she clung to it in a manner that stated her solidarity on the issue. As the farmer observed the duo, an amused smile slowly crept onto his face. It started near the eyes, creeping down until one side of his mouth turned up to indicate that he harbored no ill will. "You must be quite hungry, then," he addressed them, and the response was so unexpected it took a moment for either of them to speak.
"We're all right, sir," Emma said as she gathered her wits about her. "And we're terribly sorry for disturbing your property."
"No harm done," the man said. "So long as there's hay still for the cows, of course."
"Of course," she replied with a small smile, taking a step forward to stand next to her husband and shooting a glance his direction. "We really should be going, though."
"Are you sure I can't convince you to stay for breakfast?" the farmer tried again. "My wife will have ham and eggs ready as soon as the boy and I finish milking the cows. I'm sure she'd be more than happy for some company... we rarely get visitors round these parts."
Emma looked again to Bae, who gave a small shrug. They didn't need a discussion to know that the offer of a hot meal was more than tempting to both. Taking the shrug as deference, Emma swallowed her reluctance and put her trust in the stranger. She wasn't sure whether it was his easygoing demeanor, her hunger, or Bae's laid-back attitude rubbing off on her, but having breakfast with new friends sounded like a welcome change of pace. "Are you certain it's all right?" Emma asked him. "We don't want to be an imposition."
"Nonsense," the farmer replied. "Jake'll just run in and let his momma know to set the table for five instead of three."
The youngster nodded, scampering off towards the farmhouse and leaving his father to continue to acquaint himself with the young duo. "Name's Harold," he said, giving a nod towards Emma before stepping forward and extending his hand to shake Bae's. "Ruth," she said, hoping Bae would catch on and not call attention to the falsity. "And this is my husband-"
"-John," he replied, grasping Harold's hand and causing Emma to shoot him a quick sidelong glance. "Thanks for your kindness. We'd be delighted."
Harold glanced over his shoulder, the young stowaways ambling behind him as he marched on towards the farmhouse. He hid his smile as he watched at the duo - hands clamped together, walking so closely that their shoulders bumped with each step they took. They had their heads together, whispering - probably trying to decide whether to continue following him or make a break for it while they had the chance.
He found them rather endearing - something about their interplay resonating with him, reminiscent of his own time as a newlywed. Perhaps it was the way the boy - whatever his name actually was - seemed determined to protect his young bride, or how she stood staunchly at his side, never flinching as they faced down a situation that could have been disastrous. The urchins didn't have the look of someone accustomed to poverty - despite the soil and wear, their clothes had once been fine. But their waif-like appearances told him that it had been a while since they'd been removed from that luxury. That, and the expressions on their faces when he'd offered them a hot meal - their hunger far outweighing their common sense as they followed a stranger into his home.
Hannah would have a field day with these two.
Emma had two fears as she approached breakfast with the kind strangers. The first, of course, was that their kindness was a ruse, and they meant some manner of harm towards her or Bae. For all she knew, they could have been operatives for Cora - assigned to lure them in with a meal and poison them or have them flat out brutally murdered. But Bae seemed unphased, and that was good enough for her - had to be good enough for her - as she tried to follow his lead in this unfamiliar life of constant adaptation. She trusted him, he seemed to trust them - so that would do. It freed her up to mull over her second worry: that she'd embarrass them both by shoveling food into her face like a starved child.
That worry, too, seemed to be unfounded. A month or more of subsisting on a single meal a day must have shrunken her stomach, and even the mouthwatering ham steaks that Hannah had fried up couldn't induce her to overeat.
Harold's wife was a pleasant woman; tall and wiry with dark hair that reached nearly to her waist. Her skirt was simple; her tunic plain but clean. She seemed to relish the company, encouraging Emma and Bae to eat up just as she did her own son. She'd made entirely too much food - as if Jake had told her they'd be having ten for breakfast instead of five - but seemed less bothered by the waste than the idea that one of the young folk hadn't eaten their fill.
"The two of you," she said, gesturing at Emma & Bae with her fork, "look as if you haven't seen a decent meal in days. And I know Jakey works up an appetite helping his father in the morning."
"I haven't finished my chores yet, Mama," he protested, as if that were an explanation for why he'd eaten 'only' three pieces of meat. "Only got as far as mucking the cow stall before we got interrupted. I'll feed the hogs once we finish here."
"Perhaps you'll manage to stay out of the pen this time," Hannah said, shooting an amused glance over at her son.
Jake rolled his eyes. "Are you ever gonna let me live that down?"
Hannah grinned. "Not planning on it."
"Y'know Hannah," Harold piped up, mischief brewing in his eyes, "Seems rude to me to allude that incident… given that our visitors have never heard the story."
"Aw, do we have to do this?" Jake asked, making a sour face towards his father.
"Your father's right, you know. It is quite rude."
"C'mon, Mama. I'm sure they don't care."
"You know, I am rather curious, now that you mention it," Emma declared, Bae nodding enthusiastically.
"See Jakey, we can't leave them in the dark!" Hannah said, preparing to launch into the story even as Jake crossed his arms tightly over his chest and sunk down in his chair. "First, you need to understand that Jake and Harold have a difference of opinion on the farm work. Jake wants it done easily… Harold wants it done right."
"'Right' always involves three times as many steps," Jake protested.
"And didn't you learn your lesson with the hogs?!" Harold exclaimed, shaking his head.
Hannah shook her head at father and son, turning to Emma & Bae as she continued. "Though I've never understood his reasons, he feels strongly that the hogs should be watered, straw laid in their trough, and slop layered on top… precisely in that order. Which means going into the pen to do the water and straw, coming back 'round to the gate to get out, coming up to the house to get the slop, then going back 'round to the gate again with the slop bucket. Jake takes some sort of offense to the back-and-forth - been complaining about it as long as Harold's had him helping with the hogs."
"I just don't see why we can't carry the slop with us in the first place!"
"So a couple of months back, Harold left early for an errand and left our son in charge of morning chores. They've done them together a thousand times, and at fourteen he should be more than capable of feeding and watering a few farm animals - Harold had even taken care of the mucking, you know? But Jakey here decided that, left to his own devices, he wanted to shortcut the process - thought he'd make his life easier. So he comes up to the house and grabs the slop bucket and gets to the point in the fence where the trough is and - instead of going 'round to the gate - decides he'll just go over.
"Now you can't climb the fence with boots on - not enough space between the rails. So my boy here gets to the spot in the fence and sets the slop bucket down, and then - bright boy that he is! - slides his feet out of his work boots. So he clambers up the first couple of rails, grabs the slop bucket, and sets it on top of the fence. What the boy doesn't know is that I'm his Mama - I knew from the look in his eye when he picked up the slop that he was up to some sort of mischief. So here's me, watching from the kitchen window, as this boy perches atop the fence and lifts the bucket up - up - and tilts it over to dump the slop into the trough.
"And dump it he did - the slop - the bucket - and then himself, right over the fence. Caught his shoulder on the trough, landed slap down in the pigs' pen, brought the trough over on top of himself to boot. So now, instead of taking the fifteen extra steps to go round by the gate, the boy is covered in mud, covered in slop, and here's three hogs trying to eat his face off."
"Did you have to go rescue him?" Emma asked with a laugh.
Hannah shot her a look as Harold stifled a laugh at the question. "You kiddin' me? By the time he'd drug himself up out of the mud pit, gone round to the gate - you notice he's usin' the gate now, learned his lesson, see - and come up towards the porch, I'm doubled over laughin' at him. Sure, I've grabbed a towel - I don't want the boy to freeze between the creek and home, and you know he was headed to the creek to wash up - but seems the punishment's its own reward. Jake was no worse for the wear and he's gone and learned a lot more respect for doing things the way his father told him."
"It's true," Jake said sullenly.
"Sounds like the time I got it in my head I should help with the sheep's feed," Bae said with a chuckle.
Emma raised an eyebrow, a twinkle brimming in her eye. She planted her elbows on the table and grinned in the direction of her husband. "Now this I have to hear."
"Same kind of start, my Papa had gone into town - told me once he got back we'd feed and water the sheep. But even at 8, I knew enough to know when feeding time had come and gone - and even if I hadn't, the bleating would have reminded me. I knew quite well that I couldn't take those sheep out to pasture myself, but I thought maybe I could give them a little water, just a handful of feed to tide them over.
"So I pop open the gate - Papa had told me that was no task for a boy, but I just knew I could scoot through real quick and latch it behind me. Unluckily for me, the hungry sheep disagreed - and one of them got it into his head to bolt out into the pasture. So I tossed myself over on him, grabbed ahold of his neck - but that didn't stop the old guy, oh no, just kept running on down the road."
Emma burst out laughing, drawing smiles from Harold & Hannah. "Now there's a sight I'd love to see - forget horseback riding lessons! It's sheep instead!"
"I don't recommend it," Bae said with a laugh. "To my great fortune, this happened just as Papa was coming back from market. He had an old war injury that had never healed right, so he walked with a walking stick - and wouldn't you know as that sheep went to bolt past him he just stuck the stick out, calm as could be, and clocked the poor thing in the neck. The sheep stopped short and I tumbled off. Of course Papa came straight over and scooped me up, the best he could anyways - 'Are you hurt son?' I insisted I was fine - nevermind my scraped elbow and bruised knee, I'd bruised my pride and that was far worse.
"I'd barely scrambled to my feet when I learned canes can smack little boys' backsides just as well as they can clothesline sheep. 'You're never to do that again, my boy,' my Papa started in, and my did I think I was in for a lecture about opening the pen gate. But no, it was, 'Just let the sheep go next time. They're replaceable. You're not.'" He shook his head, the levity suddenly sucked out of the tale. "It was just me and Papa, see, and he'd made me the center of his world."
"All parents do, son," Herald piped up with a kind smile, even as he reached over to ruffle Jake's hair.
"Some take it too far," Bae replied, and Emma wondered if their new friends could pick up on the bitterness tinting his voice.
Though Jake seemed oblivious, the look his parents exchanged told her that they had. Harold only let a beat go by before he launched into his own tale of a farm incident, and by meal's end, the group had an easy rapport.
As they finished eating, Jake excused himself to compete the morning's chores, leaving the adults to recline at the table. Upon his exit, Harold turned to Bae. "So you're off to visit your cousin, you say? He's fallen ill?"
"Quite."
"Took the left at the fork at Meadsfield. How unfortunate. Happens to the best of us."
"Well, you see sir, it was growing dim and-"
"This was three days prior, yes?"
Bae exchanged a glance with Emma. "No, sir, just last night."
Exchanging a glance with his own wife - who slid her hand across her mouth to hide her giggles - he raised an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. "That's quite a feat, son. Meadsfield is three days' hike from here - in the best of conditions. Now if you'd said Meadowton -"
"That's it!" Emma exclaimed. "Bae's just terrible with names."
"And relations, too, it seems."
Her brow furrowed. "What?"
"Earlier it was the uncle who had fallen ill. Now it's the cousin?"
"Well his cousin lives with his uncle, see, his mother's brother -"
By this time Hannah's hand had become useless, giggles escaping as Emma fumbled through an explanation for the inconsistency.
"Listen up, my dears. The first thing you lovebirds need is to get your stories straight. Details? They're important."
"Yes, sir."
"And for goodness sakes, tell each other your false names before you need to use them. The looks on your faces were priceless."
The duo nodded, appropriately abashed.
"Don't suppose we can have the privilege of using your real ones?"
Exchanging a glance with Bae, Emma bit her lip. Looking back at Harold, she shook her head. "I'm sorry," she replied. "I - I wish I could. There's just too much risk."
Hannah smiled gently at the duo. "Just bear it in mind for the future. There's no harm done here… we've seen our fair share of runaways."
"We're not-"
Ignoring Emma's protests, she pushed back from the table. "Better get these dishes scrubbed before everything gets caked on. Ruth, dear, could I trouble you to help?"
"Certainly," Emma said, offering a slight nod as she too stood. Their hostess had headed into the kitchen, and Emma stacked the plates and piled the silver atop them before following her through the doorway.
There she found Hannah pumping a counter-mounted cistern into a basin that sat recessed into the kitchen counter. "My anniversary present last year," she said, grinning at Emma over her shoulder. "Sure beats going to the well several times a day." Emma returned her smile, hoping her bewilderment wasn't too evident. She'd never paid too much attention to how the dishwater made it to the sink at her parents' castle - the servants handled that - and the cottage had running water, thanks to her father-in-law's magic. Hannah's voice jolted her out of her thoughts. "If you could just scrape the scraps into that pail, Jake'll run it out to the hogs in a bit."
Emma nodded again, setting the stack on the counter and lifting the top plate from the stack. Before she had a chance to respond, Hannah was firing another question her way. "The two of you been married long?"
"Not very," Emma replied, the vague response satisfying all possible answers to the question.
"I see," Hannah said, a hint of motherly amusement evident in her voice. Her demeanor reminded Emma of her own mother, when Snow knew she'd done something and wanted to give her the chance to come clean on her own. "And whose parents objected?"
"It wasn't like that at all," Emma replied, passing the plate across the counter and beginning to scrape a second.
Hannah let out a soft hmm, sounding as if she didn't for a moment believe the young princess. "My Harold was the son of a local plowman. We met at the market - he was the first boy to ever make me laugh. But my father wouldn't hear of me marrying below my station. Took nearly a year to orchestrate our escape. We were married by the first officiant we could bribe on the roadside, walked until we found a farmer willing to give him work. I joined him in the fields every day - that's what marriage is, you know? - until Jakey arrived. We held him off for three years, but all marriages are bound to bear fruit sooner or later."
It was Emma's turn to let out a commiserate hum, thinking of Alex and the heir whose arrival loomed ever closer. Before she could wander any further down that rabbit trail, Hannah continued. "My father passed when Jake was but a few months old. I returned home for the funeral - without Herald but with the evidence of our marriage in my arms. It broke my mother to have me so far away for so long. She begged me to bring my family back home, but by then we'd built a life here... Harold and I were happy and my duty was to my own family." She paused, scrubbing furiously at a stubborn spot on one of the plates. "Can't say I regret my decision, but if I had it to do again, I might give my parents the choice of accepting him or losing me. I'd sooner see Jake in a match I don't approve of than to never see him at all."
She sent Emma a bittersweet smile. "I don't need you to tell me all your problems, dear, but know that running isn't always the answer. That boy looks as if he'd follow you to the ends of the earth. Just make sure you know what you're giving up to stay there."
"She's got fire, your Ruthie," Harold said, nodding after Emma as she left the room.
Bae grinned. "She does."
"Hannah, too. Plus she's the only girl who ever laughed at my jokes."
Bae smiled, a moment passing before his expression fell and he continued. "I didn't mean to fall for her. I was just meant to protect her, keep her safe... and somehow now here we are."
"It's a two way street," the elder man said with a smile. "She looks to be as smitten with you as you are with her. Must've been one heck of a protector."
Bae shrugged. "I don't know about that."
"You've gotten her safely this far, my boy. Whatever the two of you are running from - don't give me that look now, I know a pair of runaways when I sees em - just remember that when you married her, you took on that protection for life. Now if she's as much like my Hannah as I think she is, she'll stand shoulder to shoulder with you and you'll never face things alone. But you still gotta remember why you married her, gotta remember that when it gets tough, life with her is the choice you made. And it's gonna get tough, son - it always does. But just hang onto her and you'll be all right."
"I've no intention to do any differently," Bae replied, choosing his next words carefully. "I've lived enough life to know the fortune that's fallen my way - to be loved, to have someone choose me and promise to stay. Eh- Ruth, I mean, my role hasn't changed with her, just my motivation. I made my promises some time ago and I've every intention of standing up to them."
Harold nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Rising, he motioned to Bae. "C'mon now, let's see what we can rustle up for the two of you to take along - can't let my young lovebirds perish of starvation, now can we?" Bae moved to protest, but Harold waved him off. "The protectin's easier done with a full belly."
"You've shown us so much kindness already-"
Walking towards a door, he dismissed the objections again. "And you'll pass it along when you're able. Not much sense in letting your bride starve, now is there."
Bae followed him, swayed by his argument. He found that behind the door was a long set of steps, eventually leading down into a root cellar. Once they made it to the bottom, Harold handed him a few vegetables - a turnip, a couple of parsnips, a few carrots - before heading into the corner to grab a small half-filled sack into which Bae saw him tuck a paper-wrapped parcel that he presumed to be a chunk of cheese. "It's not much," Harold said, extending the sack towards him, "But it'll buy you a few days without starvation."
Bae shook his head and tried to hand the vegetables back over. "You're so kind, but truly I can't accept it. These are your family's winter stores!"
Shaking his head once again, Harold pressed the vegetables back into Bae's hands as he added the parcel. "Hannah always makes me store enough to feed a small army. We could feed the two of you for the next month and not make a dent." Seeing Bae's continued hesitance, he gave him a gentle shove towards the door. "It's only a day or two worth. It does my heart good to know you won't starve."
It wasn't long after that the younger couple took their leave, Hannah pulling Emma into a tight hug and whispering something to her that elicited a somber nod. Bae shook Harold's hand, then Hannah's; Harold cracking a joke about giving his greetings to Bae's second cousin and sending him a conspiratorial wink as Hannah dissolved into giggles.
"You take care of her, you hear?" Harold hollered after the duo as they started down the path near the road.
The young couple turned back, and even as Bae nodded, Emma yelled back, "We'll take care of each other!"
Emma and Bae clambered down the slight hillside that buffered the farmland from the road, the grins of the older couple remaining on their faces until they'd disappeared from sight. Bae found that Emma had grabbed his hand at some point - even as he was surprised to find that it had become such a commonplace occurrence that he hadn't even noticed when it happened. Their arms swung idly between them as they resumed their trek south, well rested and with full bellies for the first time in over a month.
Once they were a safe distance from the farmhouse, Emma resumed her characteristic chatter. "John?" she asked, sending an inquisitive look his way. "Where'd that come from?"
"I could ask the same about Ruth!"
"Grandmother's name. Pretty sure it's what Daddy would've named me if Mama hadn't decided all on her own. Yours a family name too?"
"In a manner of speaking," Bae said. "He was one of my brothers in London."
Emma looked at him inquisitively, raising an eyebrow. "You had brothers in London?"
"For a few weeks. A family caught me stealing food and took me in."
"Didn't last."
He shrugged. "Could've," he replied, sorrow lining his voice. "It was the second chance I needed after everything with my Papa. But The Shadow came from Neverland to take the boys, and I wouldn't see magic destroy another family. I went instead." He glanced over at Emma to see that she had gotten the look on her face that she always wore when he shared another piece of the past. "Don't start in on that now. What's done is done, and it's brought me here to you, so it can't be all bad, now can it."
"Suppose not," Emma said, a bit sullen at being cut off at the pass.
"So tell me about this Grandmother. Was she the doting type?"
It was Emma's turn to shrug. "Don't know, never met her. Guessing she would've been, to hear my father speak. She sacrificed herself so my parents could be together - true love and all."
"See! It's not just me!"
"I'd prefer if it's no longer you. Sacrifices aren't worth it if it means not having you here. My happiness is tied up in yours, now, see? So if you won't believe you deserve it on your own accord, believe in it for me."
He merely grunted in return - less out of agreement and more because he'd never win the argument. Harold was right, she had fire - a trait that was a disadvantage only in the rare instances he dared disagree with her. Luckily for both of them, it was much more common that their viewpoints were as much in sync as their steps, marching on towards Lincolnshire and their future.