The Past

"So, when's the wedding?"

Christine glared at her sister, taking a long drink from her glass of whiskey. Rehearsals had been so exhausting that she hadn't been able to see Sari for several weeks, and then her performance at the king's birthday had been such a success that she'd been singing nightly. Annoyingly, during that time, Edward had shown no signs of leaving and always seemed to be following her, with his eyes if not his body. He talked to her whenever he had a chance, regardless of how coolly Christine responded.

When she'd finally been given a night off from performing, she'd tried to escape from the palace for some much-needed normalcy with her sister only for Lord Alasdair to tell her that she was no longer allowed to leave.

"Why?" She'd asked, trying very hard not to cry.

His eyes were cold as he surveyed her. "Because I was able to convince the king that it was a mistake to let you out in the first place."

For a few days, she'd taken to circling angrily through the palace, taking advantage of the only freedom she had left. At night, she cried. Even singing couldn't bring her any solace. What would her sister think when she waited in the pub night after night and Christine didn't show up? How would Christine stand not being able to see her sister anymore?

She knew it was wrong of her, but she also found herself treating Edward more caustically than usual. Sometimes she felt the urge to apologize, but then she remembered who his father was and bit her tongue.

Then, one day, he pulled her aside during one of her walks.

"You know, when I was a boy, Julian and I used to explore the castle-"

Christine rolled her eyes.

"It was a great game for us. You'd be surprised how many secrets a palace has for someone to discover: secret rooms, secret passageways." He glanced deliberately at a grate at his feet.

Christine felt her heart start to beat faster, but she quickly chastised herself. It wasn't like she could trust any son of Lord Alasdair, and anyway, if she was caught, what would that mean for Connor? But she felt like a plant that had been kept away from the sunshine too long and was starting to wither away. The thought of another day in the palace was unbearable.

At her hesitation, he added quietly, "And maybe I could ensure that no one missed you, this once. Just don't be too long."

"How can I trust you?" She'd asked just as quietly.

He looked at her seriously. "I won't turn you in. I swear it on my life."

"And what good is your word to me?"

He had no answer to that, but he did look distinctly put out.

"I have a brother to think of," she whispered.

"And I have a sister," he said. "I can't imagine what it would be like to lose her. I would never put you through that."

She folded her arms. "Why?"

He smiled crookedly. "Because I like you."

Christine hated that she believed him, but she did. She believed all of it. And that was how she found herself hurrying through a dark tunnel with a pounding heart and guilt laying heavily on her heart.

"I have no interest in the man at all," Christine insisted. "Although I quite like his sister. It's a pity that the child will no doubt grow up to be as terrible as the rest of that family. They were instrumental in killing my grandparents, perhaps even more than the king himself. I believe it was Lord Alasdair himself who killed my grandmother and all of my mother's siblings while the king took care of my grandfather."

"I think I've heard that before," Sari said thoughtfully. "Can you imagine, murdering children!" She shuddered at the thought, pulling her grey shawl more tightly around her shoulders, dark eyes wide.

"Heartless bastard," Christine replied harshly, taking another gulp of the whiskey.

Sari glanced around nervously. "I'd be a bit careful, Christine. You wouldn't want the wrong people to hear you."

In response to her sister's skeptical look, Sari continued in hushed tones. "From what I understand, the political situation is becoming unstable again. There are rumours of resistance to the king's rule, and rumour has it that the resistance wants to put you on the throne."

Christine choked on her whiskey. Once she had recovered from her coughing fit, she stared at her sister as if she'd grown an extra head.

"Best of luck with that," she gasped finally.

Frowning, Sari leaned forward to grasp Christine's hand firmly. "Just... be careful. This is not a good time for anyone to hear you say anything that could be viewed as treachery."

"I will be," Christine promised, heart sinking with dread at the news.

"It may have been a mistake to bring you back to the palace," Sari said. "Now people have remembered that you exist."

As Christine returned to the palace, she couldn't help shivering regardless of the slightly warmer April weather. She wrapped her dark cloak more tightly around herself as she approached the palace. Was it her imagination, or were there more guards around the walls than usual? Feeling uncharacteristically nervous, Christine wandered over to the side of one of the walls, where the loose grate that opened into the tunnel that she used to leave the palace was located. To her surprise, it was guarded.

Fury ran through her. She was angry at Edward, certainly, but she was most angry with herself. How stupid she'd been to trust him!

Swallowing hard, Christine raised her hood, hoping they hadn't already recognized her. The palace was in the middle of the city, so hopefully they had assumed she was just an ordinary peasant. But... was it her imagination, or were they eyeing her suspiciously?

Just as she was starting to truly panic, Edward himself emerged from the tunnel and began to talk with the guards. Christine watched for several minutes from the shadows before Edward noticed her. When he did, he gave her a small nod before glancing down another alleyway and muttering something to the men beside him. The five of them moved in that direction, and Christine took the opportunity to slip down into the tunnel, weak with relief.

She was three quarters of the way through the tunnel when she heard footsteps slapping against the stone coming towards her. Christine froze and braced herself, waiting for the inevitable flicker of light from a torch or clanking of armour. Instead, a small figure crashed into her headlong.

In the dim light of the tunnel, she could only see that he was a child about Jayne's age with light brown hair and brown eyes. He was almost hyperventilating from fear.

"Please, let me go, miss," he begged, voice cracking.

"If you're evading capture, this is not the way to go. There are guards at the end of the tunnel," Christine said.

The boy dropped into a ball on the floor and started crying quietly while Christine considered him.

"They're g-going to kill m-me," he sobbed.

In that moment, Christine made a decision. She wondered if this is what her uncles and aunts had looked like when Lord Alasdair had murdered them. She certainly wouldn't let something like that happen again, if she could help it. Besides, her mind had immediately flown to her brother. If Connor escaped, she hoped someone would be brave enough to save him.

"No, they're not," she said firmly. "At least not if I can help it. But we're going to have to find another way out."

The boy looked at her as if he couldn't quite believe his ears. "You don't want me dead?"

"Good lord, of course not," she promised. The very fact that he was apparently an enemy to the king made him a friend, regardless of whatever "crime" the king imagined him guilty of.

She glanced behind her, suddenly worried that Edward would try to catch up with her. "We have to keep moving. There's likely a guard close behind me, and our first job is to lose him," Christine said, helping the boy up. She began to run, holding the boy's hand to ensure that they stayed together.

The entrance to the tunnel opened up just outside of the kitchens. At this hour, there were no servants there, but Christine doubted that the empty hall would remain guard-less for long.

"When I open the grate, it's going to make a loud noise," Christine warned the boy, who winced in response. "The second I stand up, I want you to get underneath my cloak and hide behind me. If we're lucky, no one will look too closely." And see a boy-shaped lump, Christine thought. This plan was looking more and more suicidal by the second.

As she had predicted, seconds after she had replaced the grate and the boy was hiding behind her, the sound of footsteps echoed from around the corner.

Christine crossed her arms and waited.

When the guards appeared, panting, she only raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?" One of the guards demanded.

"Is it a crime to go for a walk when one cannot sleep due to the horrendous racket?" Christine asked, injecting as much venom into each word as she could. Some of the men looked guilty.

"There's a boy in the palace. Have you seen him?"

Christine looked pityingly at the group. "There are many boys in the palace. You may need to give me specifics."

"You would recognize him as being out of place. If you see him, be sure to report it. He's very dangerous," the first guard spoke again.

"A child?" Christine said with a mocking smile. "Not to worry, I'm sure that I would be more than capable of handling myself against someone half my size."

The guard scowled, but nodded at the others to turn around. Christine breathed a sigh of relief the second they moved around the corner.

"You can come out now," Christine assured her charge, who was white as a sheet as he emerged from underneath the heavy black fabric. "I think our best chance will be to get into the courtyard and hide in a supply cart. Follow my lead and stay hidden."

The next few minutes were perhaps the most terrifying of Christine's life. She and the boy had to backtrack multiple times when they heard soldiers moving towards them and often had to rely on shadows or shoddy hiding places. When they finally reached the entrance to the courtyard, Christine felt her heart sink. There were several guards milling around, clearly on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Still, they were running out of options. If this plan didn't work, Christine wasn't certain of what to do. That meant that this plan had to work, regardless of risk.

"Follow me," Christine whispered. She pulled her hood over her face and crouched down to run. She kept close to the stones of the castle for as long as she could, where the moon created quite a heavy shadow. However, eventually, she held her breath and sprinted quietly to a cart with the boy at her heels. She collapsed behind it, her heart pounding. The boy was shaking beside her. Still, she hadn't heard the soldiers sound any alarm, so perhaps it was time to plan her next move.

Christine carefully positioned herself into a crouch behind the wagon and peered over the top, only to see a man coming toward her.

Edward.

Christine cursed quietly under her breath, dropping down and beckoning the boy over. She threw part of the cloak around him so that he was at least partially hidden, before making herself as small as possible. She closed her eyes and listened to the quiet approaching footsteps, barely daring to breath. They were only coming closer. She could only pray - something that she hadn't done since her father had been presumed dead for the first time - that the steps would pass right by without the man noticing the two dark figures on the ground.

The footsteps continued, slow and methodical. Then they stopped. Christine opened her eyes to see that Edward had paused, staring hard in her direction. Christine felt her stomach sink as he moved towards them, raising his sword in a practiced motion.

"Show yourself," he ordered coldly.

Christine hesitated, but had no choice but to pull the hood from her face. Edward's expression changed from one of hard determination to surprise and dread. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Christine cut him off.

"Edward, listen to me. This is wrong," she whispered urgently, nodding towards the cowering figure still half-hidden beneath her cloak.

"You just had to get involved, didn't you? Christine, his life isn't something that you should be concerning yourself with at this second. They could kill you for this!" He hissed back.

"His life is absolutely my concern. Giving him up would be murder," she argued, eyes pleading.

"Not if letting him live would have worse results," Edward said grimly, looking at the boy warily.

"What could a child possibly do?" She exclaimed.

"Christine, he appeared here this morning as if from thin air. There is a woman in the king's service with the power of prophecy, and she claims that this boy will do terrible things in the future. He must have terrible magic if he can just appear in a guarded castle. Who knows what he'll do once he's grown," there was something almost like regret in Edward's voice, but his eyes were hard.

"Do you honestly believe that the future is written for us? I would rather trust the choices of a boy who is not yet grown than the insane babbling of a witch. How is it justice to try a child for a crime he has yet to commit, if he commits it at all? This is not a matter of justice. This is a simple matter of right and wrong. If you kill this boy, it will be murder, and his blood will be on your hands," Christine said, pulling the shaking child closer towards her in an attempt at comfort.

"I can let you go before I turn him, but that is all I can do. Anything else is treason," Edward said simply, refusing to meet her eyes.

Christine lifted her chin stubbornly. "I'm not going anywhere," she replied quietly. "Treason to the crown is far better than betraying your morals. Edward, the night we met, I told you that you weren't what I expected. I believed that you might actually have some shred of honour. Please don't prove me wrong, I beg of you."

For once, Christine could not read what was on Edward's face. His jaw was set and still, with only his eyes revealing the multitude of thoughts whirring beneath the surface. For a moment, Christine almost believed that he would change his mind.

"Julian!" Edward shouted, moving to the front of the wagon.

Christine felt tears welling behind her eyelids as the boy let out a soft sob.

"Shh," Christine soothed, stroking his hair with trembling hands and cursing herself for being so idiotic. Anyone from the Alasdair family would be heartless and traitorous, and she'd known it from the start. Allowing herself to even entertain the idea that Edward was any different had been childish. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt.

"You found him?" Came the higher voice of the prince as he jogged towards his friend.

"Yes," Edward replied. Then, Christine felt someone rummaging in the wagon. "Here."

There was a noise of something smacking against flesh and a loud "oof".

"I could have you arrested for that!" The prince laughed.

"I was just having a little bit of fun. There's nothing here and I'm frankly exhausted from wandering around looking for a child who probably magicked himself out the same way he got in," Edward drawled, picking up something else from the cart.

"Don't you dare-" Smack! "Edward!"

Something came soaring over the wagon, clearly thrown from the prince's hand. It landed with a splat on the dirt a few meters away from Christine. From the smell, Christine guessed that it was an extremely mutilated tomato. It was nearly unrecognizable now after its second meeting with the ground.

"Missed by a mile! You've grown soft while I've been away," Edward chuckled.

"You are bloody lucky that you're my best friend, Edward. I should put you in the stocks-" Julian made another noise of disgust as another tomato made contact with the royal body. "Hanged!" He corrected.

Edward was now leaning against the wagon for support as he laughed. Julian was laughing too, making his way over to his friend.

"I gather you're right, you know," he commented. "About the boy? My father can be so unreasonable."

"You said it, not I," Edward agreed. "If-oof!"

Julian let out a burst of laughter. "How's that for growing soft?"

"Well, you were standing right beside me," Edward pointed out, and Christine could hear the grin in his voice. "I'd be willing to bet that the lads at the gate are bored as well. What do you say we each take half and finish this properly? My army against yours."

"Challenge accepted!" Julian declared gleefully. "But I get to choose who is on my team."

"Aye, you could use the advantage," agreed Edward. "I'll come along with the wagon. I'd best warm up my arms, not that I truly need an advantage."

"No, you just want something to blame when you lose," Julian countered, already jogging away.

A few seconds later, Edward reappeared in front of Christine, tomato colouring half of his face.

"Can you and the lad walk under the wagon while I pull it? The guards will be distracted by Julian, so you'd best take advantage of that and run the second we're outside the walls," Edward warned, rubbing at slime on his face with his sleeve.

"Thank you," Christine said seriously, trying to pour her sincerity into the two words.

"Don't get yourself caught," was her only reply.

"Before we go, do you happen to have a spare knife?" Christine asked.

"Do you know how to use it?"

"No, I want it to look at because it's pretty. Of course I know how to use it," she said impatiently.

Edward's mouth quirked as he tossed her one of the knives from his belt.

Getting out of the city was remarkably easy after that. By the time the sun was beginning to rise, Christine and the boy were already walking rapidly through the woods to the North of the city. The boy was looking more and more exhausted, though, which had Christine wondering if they ought to stop. Still, she was beginning to worry. What would happen when they discovered her missing the next morning? Would they kill her brother? She really needed to get back soon, but she couldn't very well abandon the boy.

Christine was so lost in her thoughts that it took her an embarrassing amount of time to realize that she was being followed. There was someone only meters behind her in the trees, stepping on twigs and leaves and making no effort to be quiet in his haste. She probably could have heard whoever it was from miles away if she'd been listening, but now she would guess he was only seconds away from sight.

Quickly, Christine pulled the boy to some thick brush on her right and pushed him down into it.

"Stay down," she hissed.

The second he was hidden, someone came crashing into her, knocking her to the ground. One of her arms was trapped so that she couldn't reach her knife, so she flailed around and picked up the first thing that came into reach: a rock. With a cry, she brought it down without hesitation onto whoever was on top of her, knocking him out cold.

With a grunt, she pushed him off of her. He was considerably heavier than he was. Now that her hands were free, she was able to push the hair out of her eyes that essentially had made her blind during the attack only to see...

Edward.

"Bloody hell," Christine muttered, rolling her eyes up to the fading stars.

He came to with a groan a short time later to find a pair of curious brown eyes and guilty blue ones staring down at him.

"What was that for?" He moaned, rubbing his head.

"You attacked me and I reacted," Christine defended herself tersely even as she knelt down to look at him carefully. "Follow my finger."

"What?" Edward exclaimed.

"No concussion," Christine muttered. "That's good," she added upon seeing his incredulous expression.

The boy looked from Edward to Christine in amazement. "Are you married?" He asked curiously.

"No!" Christine cried in disgust as Edward closed his eyes for a moment, possibly wondering what on earth he'd gotten himself into.

"So, where are we taking you, lad?" Asked Edward in an attempt to change the subject, looking at the boy cautiously as if he were nervous that he might grow another head.

"I live with... some spinsters to the North of here," he explained.

Christine became increasingly aware of Edward's eyes studying her. She should've been used to it by now, but she still found the way he looked at her disconcerting.

"I bribed your servants," Edward said. "They are now telling the king that you have scarlet fever, a theory which I doubt anyone of importance will want to verify themselves."

"Thank you," Christine said, surprised at the gesture.

"If I am committing treason, I might as well do it properly." He smiled crookedly, before turning to the boy. "Well, let's get you back to your spinsters, lad."

The boy nodded with a hesitant smile before looking to Christine as though for protection. He clearly wasn't certain of what to think of Edward just yet. Edward's smile faded and he knelt down to the boy's level.

"I won't hurt you, boy. I just expect that you'll return the favour and not prove us wrong for helping you. That means no dark magic, alright?"

The boy looked utterly perplexed, but nodded anyway. Christine held back an unladylike snort. The poor child probably didn't even know a thing about dark magic.

"What your name, little one?" She asked gently, suddenly remembering that she still didn't know who the child she'd risked her life for was.

The boy smiled shyly up at her. "Rumplestiltskin."

Thanks for reading!